


The Proof Isn’t Always In The Pudding

by Jacie_popslash (Jacie)



Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Art, Artists, Clubbing, College, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Dogs, Guitars, M/M, Murder, Musicians, Mystery, Painting, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-11
Updated: 2007-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacie/pseuds/Jacie_popslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU meets murder mystery. Written for 2007 SeSa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sailing in July

Scintillating water splashes against the sides of the boat, rocking it gently as the sun warms the wooden deck and encourages the water’s reflection to sparkle across the hull in a lively ballet of light and shadow. The sky is blue and cloudless overhead as birds fly and swoop in search of fish below. There are other boats in view, but none too close. Two well-toned blond men splash around in the water as they swim nearby while two other men and a girl sunbathe on the deck of the craft.

The vessel rolls slightly as the swimmers board by the short metal ladder. Both swimmers are dripping with water as they each reach to grab neatly folded towels to dry off. That still doesn’t stop one of them from standing over one of the sunbathers and shaking like a dog, spraying droplets of water everywhere.

“Hey!” complains Brian, the splashed upon. 

“You look really hot,” insists his partner seductively, leaning over to kiss his boyfriend’s sun-chapped lips. “Can I get you something to drink while I’m up? Iced Tea?”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Nick.”

“Anyone else? JC?”

“Sure, man. Tea sounds awesome.”

“You’re looking a little burned. Maybe you should get out of the sun for a bit.”

JC only waves off Nick’s concerns. “I’m fine.” 

“Justin? Brit? Anything to drink?”

The pair are cuddled onto the same lounge chair, Justin’s hair still wet from the swim. Britney turns her attention toward Nick. “Isn’t it good manners to ask the lady first?”

Nick chuckles as his eyes wander back to Brian. “I’m gay, honey, that means I’m much more interested in having my boyfriend come first. Do you guys want anything? Last chance!” he warns as he heads below deck to the galley.

“Two please,” calls Justin, laughter tinting his voice. He kisses Britney’s neck and rubs her arm as she flips through a magazine. “I’ll still be a gentleman and treat you like a lady,” he promises.

“You’d better!” she teases with a smile.

Minutes pass as Nick puts together a tray of snacks and mixes up a pitcher of tea. He carefully cuts a lemon into six wedges and puts the extra one into Brian’s glass. On the snack tray he places small piles of fruits and vegetables he has neatly prepared, as well as a few sandwiches and chips. He takes the tray of tea up first, handing a glass to each person on the deck. Moments later he returns with his tray of snacks and a freshly mixed pitcher of tea. Scooting a small table close to where Brian is sitting, Nick places his glass of tea there, then remembers to bring up a few plates for the snacks. When he finally settles down, he sits on the same lounge chair that Brian is lying on, but he faces the others.

“So, is everyone ready for another semester to begin?”

“Another? It’s going to be my first!” Justin reminds him. “You guys are so lucky you get to choose your roommates and live off-campus.”

“Yeah, I feel lucky,” groans JC as he straightens up to sip his tea. “I now live in frat boy central with no boyfriend to keep me company.”

Finally sitting up, Brian reaches over to pat JC’s hand tenderly. “That’s a tough break with Carlos. I’m sorry. But you’ll find someone else. I’m sure of it.”

“Some days it seems like there is someone for everyone else and no one for me.”

“Get over yourself, man,” Nick encourages as he takes a bite from his sandwich, licking mustard from his thumb. “Relationship over, time to move on. You’re smart and sexy. Some guy will be lucky to find you available.” Reaching for his glass, Nick gulps his tea, then sets the glass down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just be yourself. Don’t live and wallow in a private pity party. Get out there and enjoy life. You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

“What about me?” whines Justin. “I’m stuck in a stupid dorm room with some dork from nowheresville Mississippi. Missis-fucking-sippi. Who the hell lives in Mississippi?”

“Hey, man, you live in Tennes-fucking-see,” Nick reminds him. “I’d think your new roomie will fit in nicely. Tennessee, Mississippi, Kentucky. It’s like y’all are neighbors already.”

“My mom and his mom are already buddies,” Justin admits, throwing his hands in the air melodramatically. “They call each other on the phone like every day. They chatter away for hours like they’ve been best friends for years.”

“What’s the dork’s name?”

“Lance Bass. Straight A dork.”

“Aren’t you one, too? Straight A student?”

“Yeah, but I’m not a dork!”

“Bring him around, Justin, we’ll lighten him up,” promises Nick.

“If he’s from Bible belt Mississippi, he’s probably a first class homophobe,” offers Brian as he swipes a few chips from Nick’s plate.

“Just like you? Mister Gay-As-Can-Be Kentucky Bible Thumper?” teases Nick, as he wraps an arm around Brian’s shoulder.

“Kentucky ain’t Mississippi.”

“College ain’t Mississippi either. Let’s all meet the dork before we start passing judgment on him, okay?”

“I still have to live with him,” grumbles Justin.

Brian takes a moment to rub sunscreen onto Nick’s shoulders. “I’ll give him a chance, as long as he’s not a total homophobe.”

“How are things around the town now?” asks Justin. “Is it better for you guys now? Have their been any more problems with gays?”

“I don’t think it was a problem with gays, more of a problem for gays,” explains Brian.

“You know what I meant,” Justin continues. “After my mom heard about that kid who got killed, I had to keep promising her I would be fine if I went to school here. Lucky thing she likes JC and he convinced her he’ll look out for me. Are people still all freaked out about the murder?”

“It was over two years ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday,” JC reminisces, looking at his tea like he could wish it into changing to scotch. “Bad times there, J. Jordan was a great guy. I didn’t know him really well, but I knew him. I talked to him.”

“It was so hard for everyone when it happened,” adds Brian. “Everyone was so scared. You couldn’t walk down the street holding hands if you were gay after that. Not without worrying if you would be next.”

“Yeah, I remember. Especially right after it happened,” says JC. “Then last year people started holding hands a little more. A few guys would even kiss in public.”

“They’ll probably be back to screwing in the parking lots again this year.” Brian laughs and sits up straight.

JC licks his lips, lost in his thoughts of the past. Brian lies down beside Nick and massages his thigh. Justin squeezes Britney’s arm and vows, “I’ll be alright. I promise.”


	2. The Arrival

Late afternoon sunlight still wavers through the trees as a mild zephyr encourages their dance and the distant sound of a dog barking rides the breeze like an autumn leaf caught on a windy day. The air is warm with only a few scattered clouds blowing overhead as the van pulls up to an older house. Two men wrestling over a football in the yard pause their game to look up at the van and its occupants as the driver smoothly brings it to a stop at the curb. Brian is the first to hop out of the vehicle and wave to his friends while Nick reaches back to shake JC’s shoulder.

“JC, wake up. We’re here.”

Rising up slowly, JC yawns, then rubs his hands over his face. Nick pulls the keys from the ignition and goes to the back of the van to unload JC’s belongings. Brian is already across the yard greeting the other two men with warm hugs and tales of summertime adventures.

Moving to the rear of the van, JC picks up a backpack, which he slings over his shoulder before hefting his two suitcases off the ground. “Thanks for the ride, Nick.”

“I give you a ride every year.”

JC smiles because it’s true. “And every year I appreciate it. Keeps me off of the Greyhound.”

“You’re not the type to go after a bitch like that,” Nick teases as he closes up the rear door of the van and picks up JC’s guitar and duffle bag.

The pair walk up the sidewalk together, greeting their friends effusively before they head into the house. After dropping off JC’s belongings in the loft, they walk back downstairs to the living room where they are met with more warm bear hugs from Chris and Joey.

Chris makes a quick detour into the kitchen, returning with a cold six pack of beer, then tosses one to each man. “How was your summer boys? Wait! We’re missing someone. Is Carlos still sleeping in the van?”

“He dumped me,” JC confesses softly, his head hanging low. “He’s gone off to travel the world. He won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

Sliding into the seat beside JC, Chris wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder and kisses the hair at his temple. “He dumped you? Has he gone completely mad?”

“He said he still loves me, but he needs to find himself. He said it wasn’t fair to keep me on a leash when he wants to travel and experience all the world has to offer.”

“I’m sorry, dude. Seriously.” Turning to Nick and Brian, Chris smiles slyly and asks, “You two already have a few dates set up for him, right?”

“We haven’t thought that far in advance,” replies Brian.

Squeezing Brian’s hand tightly, Nick adds, “First we’re going to look for an apartment to live in. Our first home together.”

“Just the two of us.”

“We should be going soon. We have to find a motel to stay in until we find something to rent.”

“Nonsense,” says Joey, standing up and motioning around the house. “We have plenty of room. You two stay here while you look for a place. Please? We’d love to have you.”

“Yeah,” adds Chris. “You two can stay in JC’s room. He has a double bed, so there’s room enough for the two of you up there.”

Straightening up, Nick considers the offer for a moment before responding. “We can’t put JC out like that.”

“You’re not,” insists Chris. “Really. He probably wouldn’t want to stay up there alone right now, since Carlos isn’t here. Bad memories. He’d just be sleeping on the couch or in my room anyway.” Squeezing JC’s shoulder, Chris leans in to plant a kiss on his forehead, tempting a smile to cross JC’s lips. “How about it? You, me and lots of cuddle time.”

JC pats Chris’ leg. “If you’re not careful, someone is going to mistake you for gay one of these days.”

“Maybe I am gay. Maybe all the girls I date are just to throw off the straight guys.”


	3. Saturday In The Park

Saturday morning is a bustling of business in the kitchen, with Joey frying bacon, eggs and pancakes, JC inspecting and slicing up cantaloupe, grapes and oranges and Chris foregoing all the muss and fuss, settling for a bowl of Cheerios with milk, a large glass of orange juice and the Sports section. “We playing today?” he asks between bites.

Sliding his eggs onto plates, Joey takes off his apron, wiping his hands on it before hanging it back onto its hook. “Not me. I have a date with Kelly.”

Letting his paper drop to the table, Chris rolls his eyes and gulps his juice. “Really?” he says sarcastically as he grabs a pancake from the stack, eating it from his hand like a piece of toast. “I was asking JC, you practically married man.”

“Yeah, sure. Brian and Nick will be there. Hey! Do you mind if I invite Justin and his roommate?”

“Go for it. Three on three works just as well as two on two.”

A twinkle sparkles in Joey’s eyes. “It all depends on the two or the three. Me with two chicks is the kind of three on three action I’m talking about.”

“How do you get through life? Three on three involves six people. Me and two chicks along with you and two chicks, that would make a three on three. You and two chicks is just you jacking off while you watch two dykes getting it on.”

JC laughs as he reaches for the phone. “Hush you two,” he pleads as he dials Justin’s number.

Across campus, Lance is studying on his bed, while Justin is showering down the hall, when the phone rings. Lance looks at the door, which is cracked open, then walks over to Justin’s bed to answer the phone. “Hello?”

JC is taken aback by the deep, sexy voice on the line. His mouth goes dry and his mind seems to turn to mush as he melts into the voice he hears.

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

Walking into his room with a towel wrapped around his waist, Justin sees Lance on his bed and on his phone. Before he can say a word, Lance stands up and hands the phone to him.

“It rang, but no one said anything. I’m not sure I’m working it right.”

Taking the phone from Lance, Justin tries his hand, “Hello?”

His voice immediately snaps JC’s brain from its rapture. “Oh, Justin!”

“Yeah, JC. What’s up?”

“Who the hell was that? I thought I dialed a nine hundred number for gays!”

Justin nearly explodes with laughter. “You’re too much. That was Lance, my roommate.”

“No shit? Does he look as good as he sounds?”

“Dude! He looks like a freaking albino dork from Mississippi,” gasps Justin between laughter, while he's dodging every item in the room within Lance’s grasp as it whizzes past him.

“Hey, I called because we’re going to be playing some b-ball at the park this morning. Do you want to come play a bit and up meet with the guys? You and Lance, I mean. We have four now. If you two want to play, we’ll have six.”

“New flash JC, I’m in college now. I’ve pretty much mastered basic math.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know how your brain is when it gets thinking about sex and guys and stuff.”

“You’re making me blush, you know!”

“Hold on a sec.” Pressing his free hand over the mouthpiece, Justin turns to Lance. “Some of my friends are going up to the park. Do you want to go meet up with them and hang out?”

“Sure.”

“Cool! We’re playing a little b-ball with some old dudes.” Returning the phone to his ear, Justin confirms with JC, “Yeah, we’ll play. What time?”

“Around ten. Then we’ll go out for lunch, so bring ten bucks each, alright? Otherwise you’ll have to eat at the house and we do that all the time. Oh yeah, and Joey’s gone, so I’ll feed you tofu, mushrooms and bean sprouts.”

“That is so wrong.”

“See you at ten.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Chris and JC leave the house together, doing a few stretches before jogging to the park. They show up at the courts five minutes early, finding Nick and Brian already there taking practice shots. 

“Let’s flip for teams,” Chris calls, pulling a quarter out if his pocket. “Whoever calls it is with me.” They all watch the coin as he tosses it into the air, then catches it, flipping it onto the back of his hand.

“I’ll take heads,” Nick calls.

“Although he truly prefers tails,” snickers Brian. “Tails. I’m tails.”

Chris shakes his head and reveals the coin, “Gay guys. Okay, that’s tails, so Brian’s with me and Nick’s with JC.”

“What about Justin and Lance?” wonders JC, hands on his hips.

“Tall guys against short,” suggests Nick as he bounces the ball.

Chris shrugs and uses the tail of his shirt to wipe a trickle of sweat from his face. “Works for me.”

“He’s already seen Justin,” warns JC. “Justin is as tall as Nick.”

“Doesn’t mean he can play. Look at you!”

“Hey now!”

Justin and Lance walk to the park together, chatting along the way. Misjudging their time, they arrive at the courts about ten minutes late, finding the other four already playing.

“I can’t play very well,” Lance confides quietly in Justin as they approach.

“It’s just for fun. And exercise.”

The other four pause the game as JC steps toward Justin, shaking his hand and making introductions. When Lance says hi to him, he feels his knees weaken. Cocking his head, he stares at the country boy who looks like it will take years for him to grow into his voice.

Bouncing the ball twice in front of himself, Chris is ready to get back to the game. “Man, you’re the whitest white guy I’ve ever seen,” he says as he looks Lance up and down. “Where are you from?”

“Mississippi.”

Faking a southern drawl, Chris continues, “What we have here, gentlemen, is a genuine Mississippi albino. A nocturnal animal rarely seen during daylight hours.”

Laughing hysterically, Justin slaps his palms to his knees. “That’s exactly what I call him, the Albino!”

Chris nods as he passes the ball to Justin. “Well, today, he’s my albino. Justin, you’re with Nick and JC. Lance, you’re with me and Brian. Let’s play ball!”

Within five minutes, Chris steals the ball from Justin twice, scoring each time. Forty minutes later, the pair are playing a heated one on one game, while the others relax on nearby benches. Nick sits on one bench, while Brian rests his head on his lap, leaving Lance and JC to share the other bench that is nearby. 

Nick’s fingers weave through Brian’s hair as they watch Justin and Chris vie for the ball. Lance’s eyes wander between the pair on the bench and the players on the court. JC stares helplessly at Lance, trying to find something, anything, to say so he can hear that voice again. Inwardly, he wrestles with the thought of asking Lance to tell him his entire life story in one afternoon. Before he’s able to put a question together, he’s surprised to hear Lance come up with his own.

“Do you guys know who Jordan Tyler is?” he asks, his eyes focusing on Nick.

Nick responds first, straightening his posture slightly. “Heard of him. Of course. Everyone who’s been on campus the last couple years has heard of him. He was murdered before I started going here, but JC knew him. You used to work with him, didn’t you, JC?”

“Sort of. Sometimes it’s still hard to realize he’s dead. He was only a few weeks away from graduation when he was killed a couple years ago. Sometimes it’s easier to think about him as having graduated and moved on. He did used to date a friend of mine. He was also the student leader of the Gay and Lesbian Coalition group here on the campus when he was killed. I used to help out with the coalition now and then. Mostly designing posters. Jordan also worked as a waiter at a place where I play guitar for cash sometimes.”

Eyes opened wide, Brian sits up, asking, “Do you want to hear something weird?”

Before Lance registers that Brian has spoken, he quickly shoots off a question to JC, “You’re gay?” 

“Yeah. I am, and Nick and Brian, too. Sure. There are a lot of gays on campus.”

Bristling, Nick leans toward Lance, as if ready to fight if necessary. “That’s not a problem for you, is it?”

“No, no. Of course not,” insists Lance, wiping his sweaty palms onto his pants. 

“Want to hear something weird?” Brian repeats.

The others stare at him, giving him a chance to speak.

“I have one of his old texts books! Jordan’s book. I bought it used at the book store. It has his name in it. Weird, huh?”

The others look suitably surprised.

“And there’s this note in it.”

Leaning forward with interest, Lance questions, “What does it say?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Something about coming out, I think. I don’t even know if he wrote it. Who knows how many people have owned that book?”

“Can I see it sometime?” Lance pleads.

Brian shrugs and looks at Nick. “Sure. If you want to.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Can I paint you?” JC blurts out suddenly, his words tumbling out so quickly, they’re almost jumbled together.

“Paint me?”

“Your eyes. They’re so green. I paint. I’d like to paint you. A portrait. For class.” His words topple out like staccato notes and he wants to slam his palm against his forehead for sounding like such an idiot.

“Sure. I guess so.”

“I’d like that,” promises JC. “I like working with colors and your eyes are so, so interesting.”

“Thanks.”

JC’s eyes are locked on Lance’s, as he searches for something more to say, when Justin rushes over, holding the ball against his side.

“We’re tied and I’m hungry. You guys ready to go eat?”

As Justin anxiously awaits a response, Chris slyly slips in behind him, steals the ball, races toward the end of the court, and dunks another basket almost before Justin has a chance to move.

“I win, I win, I win!” he gloats, running with both arms raised in the air as a symbol of his victory.

Justin swiftly retrieves the ball and aims to score. Moments later he’s chasing Chris down the court, trying to steal the ball back. 

“Hey, JC, I thought Justin was one of your straight friends,” shouts Chris. “I’d never know it from the way he keeps chasing me around and trying to grab my ball!”

“That’s enough. Game over!” Nick laughs. “I’m starving. Let’s head for the café.”

Slipping his arm around Brian’s waist, Nick leads the way to his van. Since he’s the only one who drove, the others gravitate toward his vehicle. Brian rides in the passenger seat, while the others pile up in the back. Chris and Justin race to the van, battling each other as they head to the back seat. JC stands back, offering to let Lance get into the van first. After he slides the door shut, JC is pleased to find the available seat that is left is next to Lance. 

He sidles up close, maybe too close, wishing he had worn cologne and thinking he must smell of sweat. When Nick takes a sharp turn, JC slides a little, just enough that his knee bumps up against Lance’s and he can’t help but smile inwardly at the contact.


	4. Green Day Café

Arriving at the café well before the lunch crowd, the six men scoot two of the cafe’s heavy sidewalk tables together and gather around them. The waiter who approaches the table is small and dark-haired. His black shirt is unbuttoned far enough to reveal a thin gold chain around his neck. A forest green apron is tied over his black pants. With one hand on the back of JC’s chair, he glances around the table.

“Can I get you boys something to drink first? Or are you ready to order?”

“Corona and an Italian Sub,” says Chris, his eyes still studying the menu.

“Corona to drink,” adds Nick. “And I’ll be splitting a cheese pizza with Brian.”

“Sure thing, Brian, anything to drink?”

“Iced Tea.”

“JC?”

“I’ll have a White Zin and the Asian Chicken Salad. Thanks, Howie.”

Justin eyes Chris, grinning. “I’ll have beer, too, please.”

“Not unless you have an ID that says you’re twenty-one, kid.”

“You didn’t card them,” he whines.

“I know them. I’ve gone drinking with them. You, I don’t know. Do you have an ID or not?”

“I’ll have a Sprite,” Justin concedes, shrinking into his seat. “And a cheeseburger with fries.”

Lance follows their conversation, knowing that neither he nor Justin are of age. “I’ll have a Dr. Pepper, please, and the tacos .”

Howie raises his eyebrows slightly in surprise at Lance’s voice. “Sure, kid.”

“Hey,” calls out Chris. “I’ll go with the tacos, too. Sounds good!”

Howie nods as he walks away.

Justin frowns as he stares after the waiter. “He didn’t write anything down.”

“It’s okay,” JC assures him. “Howie’s got a good memory.”

“Even with Chris changing his mind?”

“He’s used to that. Chris changes his mind more often than he changes his underwear.”

“Hey, now. My undies are not up for public discussion.”

Three minutes later Howie returns to the table, placing their drinks down on cocktail napkins and promising, “Your food will be out shortly.”

Nick shifts in his seat, eyeing the two younger boys. “Hey, Lance. No offense, man, but does your dad cut your hair?”

Ducking slightly, Lance blushes and admits, “My mom cuts it.”

“How about after lunch I take you over to my Stylist for a haircut?”

“AJ is awesome!” boasts Brian. “He does all of our hair. You should have seen Chris before AJ got a hold of him. He had dreads!”

“Dreads are so cool!” says Justin before sipping Sprite through the clear straw.

“Well, when you get to college, it’s time to get a little style. AJ is a bloody genius when it comes to hair and stuff. He can look at you and just know what the best style for you is. You should both visit him and see what he says.”

“Do we need an appointment?” wonders Lance, listening with interest.

Nick flips open his cell phone and pushes a few buttons. “We’ll see. Yeah, is AJ around? Thanks.” While he waits on the phone, he takes a swig of beer and sniffs the aroma of the pizza Howie places between him and Brian. “Hey, AJ, what’s up? Do you have a few minutes this afternoon. Yeah? We have an emergency. Two Freshmen! Right. Right. See you in an hour. Thanks, man.” Smiling as he closes his phone, he informs the others, “We’re all set with AJ.”

Lance stares at JC while taking a bite from his first taco. JC chews nervously under the scrutiny, biting his tongue.

“Damn!” slips out before he can stop it. Turning away from Lance, he grabs his wine glass and sips his White Zin as Chris smirks at him.

Clearing his throat, Lance commands JC’s attention once again. He stirs his refried beans as he looks deeply into JC’s eyes. “Is this where Jordan worked?”

“Yes,” admits JC. 

“Is our waiter the same Howie that dated him?” Lance asks softly.

“Yeah. They used to date.”

“What’s all this interest in Jordan?” questions Nick, reaching for his second slice of pizza, battling with the gooey cheese that stretches smoothly like elastic, leaving an elongated strand between the slice and the pan until Nick finally wins the fight, tugging at it with his fingers.

“Scholarship. A retired Professor of journalism died last year and left a bequest to the college. They’ve put together a journalism contest. First place gets a full scholarship for two years. Second place gets five thousand dollars toward admissions and third place gets twenty-five hundred. My family is poor. I want to get a college education, but I can’t afford four years unless I get some scholarship funds. On top of that, there’s a nice reward out there for anyone who helps solve the crime.”

“So you’re researching Jordan’s murder? You want to profit from his death?” asks Brian. “That was a really painful time on campus. It’s still bad memories for a lot of people here.”

“I am researching what happened to him. I'm not wanting to profit from anyone’s death. If I had taken out a life insurance policy on him, had him killed and collected the money, then I would be profiting from his death. I’m researching his death in hopes of solving the crime. I’d be profiting from solving his murder and helping to put the guilty party in jail.”

“Why Jordan’s story? What does it matter to you?”

“Dual reasons. Like I said, scholarship plus reward.”

“Where did you hear about what happened?” asks Chris, picking up wayward bits of cheese and lettuce from his plate and dropping them into his mouth.

“My dad and I go hunting together. Sometimes he picks up a hunting magazine and he happened to pick one up with Jordan’s story in it. About his remains being found by a hunter. The article mentioned the college and the reward as a sidebar. When I contacted the college, I learned about the scholarship. I thought I might as well go for it. I like science stuff, solving crimes through science. It’s cool. I’m most interested in majoring forensic sciences and physics.”

Justin grins as he reaches for his fries, dragging a couple through his pile of ketchup in an elegant swirl. “I told you guys he’s a geek!”


	5. Shear Fantasies

After splitting up the bill at the café, Chris and JC say their goodbyes and head back to their house. Justin and Lance start for the van, but Nick and Brian walk right past it.

“It’s not far,” Nick promises.

Three blocks later, Nick holds open a door as Brian enters the shop. Justin and Lance look up at the psychedelic sign outside which reads: Shear Fantasies. Inside the shop is painted in bright blocks of color. The counters and other furniture mostly consist of black, silver and glass. Colorful modern art prints decorate the walls. The seven people sitting in the waiting area look bored, flipping through old magazines, chatting on cell phones or staring blankly at the walls. They all appear young, in their teens and twenties.

The receptionist looks up, smiling. Her long, layered hair is a mix of blonde and black. Her ears hold multiple piercings and her nose is also pierced. “Welcome to Shear Fantasies, who is your appointment with?”

“AJ.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” she promises. When she stands to go in back, the guys notice the short mini skirt she’s wearing, which show off her long legs covered in sheer black stockings, along with a cropped top that shows off her well tanned mid-section with pierced bellybutton. As she walks away on her tall, spiked heels, she sways her hips rhythmically to the beat of the music playing over the sound system. After a few steps, she glances back, radiating with a glowing smile when she sees them all watching her.

Brian leans close to Justin and Lance, softly warning them, “AJ talks a lot. Just make sure you don’t tell him anything private, because he can’t keep a secret to save his life. Anything you tell him will be public knowledge about five minutes later.”

Nick nods in agreement. “That’s very true, but he’s a damn good stylist.”

Moments later AJ appears, the receptionist following behind him. He heads for Brian first, taking Brian’s hands in his own and kissing him on each cheek. 

“Brian, it’s so good to see you!” Releasing one of Brian’s hands, AJ runs his fingers through the blond’s hair. “Looks like you’re about ready for a haircut yourself.”

“Yeah, probably,” he agrees, smoothing his hair back down.

Moving on, AJ repeats his greeting ritual with Nick. “You’re looking good, hon. Hair’s in good shape, nice tan. But these fingernails! When will you ever stop chewing them?”

Nick smiles and laughs and Lance takes note. It’s the happiest he’s seen Nick look all day.

“And these must be the freshmen,” mentions AJ, as he begins by walking around Justin first. “Do you want to keep the curls, or go shorter?”

“I better keep them. My mom loves them. And my girlfriend does, too.”

AJ nods as he reaches out, running his fingers through Justin’s hair. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” When he turns to Lance, he strokes his goatee, studying Lance’s lack of any tasteful style. Lance’s jeans are well-worn, as are his sneakers. His plaid button-down shirt is neatly tucked into his belted jeans. “Which one of your relatives cuts your hair?”

“My mom,” he admits.

“Does she dress you, too?”

“Well, I guess you could say that. She takes me shopping and picks everything out.”

Some of the other clients snicker as they enjoy the encounter. Nick scowls at them, but Brian and Justin are both close to laughter, too.

“I bet you wore your hair like this in grade school, didn’t you?”

“It was a little shorter.”

AJ shakes his head and runs his hands through Lance’s hair. “You need a lot of work. Big changes. I’m seeing spikes and a lighter color.” Turning back to Justin, he adds, “You, too, with the color. Shiny golden curls is what I see on you.” Stepping back, he takes in the full view of Lance once more. “If everything in your closet looks like this, you really need to throw it all out and start over. The only thing this outfit is worthy of is painting walls and taking the trash out after dark. Brian, I’m going to start these two on some color, then I’ll trim you before I cut and style them. No charge for you this time, since you’ve brought me referrals.”

“Thanks, AJ! We told them you’re the best!”

“Then you speak the truth! Let’s go in back.”


	6. Conference In A Dressing Room

Two hours later, the four are walking briskly through the streets, heading toward the main square, smiles of satisfaction lingering on their faces. Brian has his arm around Nick’s waist as he eyes Lance and Justin like they’ve just taken their kids for their first real haircut. 

“Aren’t they the cutest things,” he gloats.

“Now all they need are some decent outfits, then they’ll be fit to be seen on campus.”

“Hey! What’s wrong with my clothes?” wonders Justin.

“They’re so cute at that age,” teases Nick as he leads them to a door of a shop called The Second Hand Rose. “And these are no sloppy seconds, my boys. It’s the best clothing you’ll ever find for less than twenty bucks. Some of it has never been worn!”

“Never worn?” wonders Lance as he walks into the store.

“College kids. You know, parents, relatives and siblings give them clothes that aren’t quite right for them, or they don’t fit, so they sell the stuff here for a few bucks. Then someone else who loves it gets to buy it at a great price. Win-Win if you ask me.”

Justin and Lance follow along helplessly as Brian and Nick lead them through the store, picking out shirts and pants, holding them up to check the color and size. Once enough clothes are gathered together, the four head into the dressing rooms. Brian winds up with Lance and Nick with Justin as they begin going through the clothing. Every few minutes they step out of the dressing rooms to model and vote on the outfits.

Lance makes the most of his time in the dressing room with Brian. “So do you have any thoughts on Jordan’s case? Did you ever meet him or know who he hung out with?”

“I have no idea what happened. A lot of people think it was a gay bashing.”

“I don’t think so. I think he knew his murderer.”

“Really?” asks Brian as he’s putting a shirt back onto its hanger. “What makes you say that?”

“Gay bashings are usually more random. It’s usually a group of guys beating up on one gay guy and leaving him to die alone in the streets. That’s not what happened in Jordan’s case. He was strangled. That seems like a more personal crime. And there’s only evidence of one person attacking him. The reports say he was killed somewhere else, then dumped in the woods. I think it was personal, like a boyfriend or ex-boyfriend.”

The smile fades from Brian’s face, replaced by a look of concern. “You think Howie did it?”

“Maybe. I’ve read the reports and some articles. It wasn’t a beating at all. Do you think Howie could have done it?”

“What? Howie? No. No way. He’s so nice, so sweet. He’s very sensitive, loving and caring. He donates a lot of his time and effort to charity for the Lupus Foundation. His sister died from Lupus and he loved her very much. He’s been through some tough times. Jordan’s death was hard on him, too, even though they’d broken up.”

“They broke up? When?”

Having moved on to folding a pair of jeans, Brian looks lost in thoughtful introspection for a few moments before he answers. He brushes away some lint and tugs at a loosened thread. “A few months before Jordan died. Maybe six or seven. I can’t remember exactly.”

“The police reports note him as Jordan’s current boyfriend. At the time he died.”

Looking up, Brian stares deeply into Lance’s eyes. “So you think the police can’t be wrong? They’re people. You can’t just take everything that people say as the truth, because they could very well be wrong. I know for a fact those two had broken up months before Jordan was killed. I couldn’t even tell you who Jordan was dating at the time.”

“Would anyone know?”

“Probably Howie. They were close. They were still friends after they broke up.”

“Why did they break up?”

“I don’t know. It’s their relationship, you know? I didn’t know them that well, but I remember JC being really sad about it. And then when Jordan was killed, I remember at the funeral, JC was holding onto Howie and they were both in tears. I’m not sure who was comforting whom more. A lot of people cried. I’ve never seen so many people at a funeral. Last year Howie organized a memorial, so people would never forget. He said he plans to do it every year.”

“Never forget what?”

“Everything that was Jordan. His hopes, his dreams, his life. It still tears people up that his killer was never found.”

“But there hasn’t been a murder in town since then, has there?”

“Not one. No murders, no gay bashings, nothing like that.”

“Do you know any of Jordan’s friends who owns an Irish Setter?”

“No, why?”

Nick taps on the dressing room door, interrupting the conversation. “Hey, are you two about done in there? Justin’s ready to check out.”

“Yeah, we’ll be right out,” calls Brian.

“Can we talk some more sometime? Maybe over coffee or something?” 

Brian nods as he hands the chosen clothing to Lance and grabs the rejection pile himself. “Yeah, sure. We’d all love to see justice done. That’s for sure.”


	7. Porn: The Other Fresh Meat

Facing the mirror in the bathroom on his floor, Lance sighs, rubs gel in his hair and attempts to spike it the way AJ did at the hair salon, but it doesn’t come close to looking as good as it did on Saturday. 

“Hey! Who’s hogging the bathroom?” yells a dorm mate who is currently pounding on the door. “Come on, man, you’ve been in there forever!”

Standing with his hands on the edge of the sink, Lance takes a last look at the mirror and shakes his head. This will never do. Slinging his towel over his shoulder, he opens the door and walks out without making eye contact with the scowling student who had been waiting on him. Retreating to his room, Lance pulls out a scrawled note and goes to the hallway to use the pay phone.

“Brian! It’s Lance. I need help, man. It’s my hair. AJ may have the magic touch, but I sure don’t. It looked so good when AJ did it. JC wants to paint me and I wanted it to look that good again. Today. Yeah. Around two. Sure thing. I will be right over. Thank you! Thank you so much!”

As he races from his dorm, Lance wishes he knew someone well enough to ask for a ride. Unfortunately, the only person he can think of is Nick and that’s where he’s headed to. He couldn’t possibly ask Nick to come pick him up. Still, he waves to students he’s met over the last few days, hoping someone will see his urgency and offer transportation. No one does, so he jogs through the streets until he reaches the apartment building where Nick and Brian live.

Poking out his index finger, he reads the names on the mailboxes, then curses because he only sees last names. One label catches his attention: Carter/Littrell. Chris had called Nick “Carter” a couple times during their basketball game. Jabbing his finger against the mailbox, he convinces himself he must be right. “Three-B,” he mumbles. “Of course they live on the top floor.”

The building is old and the steps are worn, each one dipping where thousands of shoes have landed on it over the years. Lance takes a deep breath as he thinks about how many people have lived in the building since it’s been built. For the first flight, he skips every other step. By the second flight, he’s only skipping a few, mostly hitting every one. By the third staircase, he’s walking and panting.

The door is answered within moments of his knock. Brian stands grinning on the other side. “You do look like you need help,” he agrees. “Come on in.”

“Oh dear, what have you done?” asks Nick. Coming closer, he runs his hand through Lance’s hair, which is filled with goop. “Too much product,” he surmises. “Way too much product.”

“It wasn’t doing what it should, so I kept putting more in and it just,” Lance attempts to explain, “it just all fell down.”

Brian laughs, “He has Humpty Dumpty hair!”

“Can you fix it?” Lance asks desperately.

Nick takes him by the arm and leads him to the bathroom, thrusting a towel into his hands. “First you shower and wash your hair. Then we’ll do some repairs.”

“I just took a shower.”

“Well, you have way too much crap in your hair and it must come out. All of it. And you are all kinds of sweaty. You don’t want to go over there all sweat-stained and stinky, do you?”

“No,” Lance concedes as he takes the towel and proceeds into the bathroom.

“You know what we should do?” Brian asks giddily, nearly bouncing on his toes when he hears Lance turn the water on full blast.

Nick looks at Brian, attempting to resist the pull, but he can’t, because it’s Brian. “What?”

“We need to make Lance up right. You know how morose JC has been since Carlos dumped him?”

“Yeah.”

“We send him a little spark. We make up Lance like a JC-type personal wet dream come alive.”

Nick smiles widely as he pulls Brian to him with a hug. “I love when you try to do good behind the scenes. Even if it always fails miserably every time, it shows what a good heart you have.”

“My ideas don’t always fail,” insists Brian as he massages Nick’s biceps. “And do you want to see JC mope around all sullen and melancholy all semester long or do you want to help pick him up by his bootstraps and set him right again?”

“With JC, you’d have to pick him up by his kinky bootstraps.”

“True.”

“What about Lance? Maybe our little country boy has never even kissed a girl. How would he handle JC coming onto him?”

“Not that. I just want to spark the old flame in JC. I want to give him something pretty to look at, stir up a little fire in his pants. Make him want to go out and find a new boyfriend.”

Forty-five minutes later, Lance has managed to shower, Nick has managed to rescue Lance’s blond spikes and Brian has managed to pluck out Lance’s stray eyebrow hairs. Working close, Brian lightly applies eyeliner and a soft dusting of eye shadow, then reaches for pink lip gloss.

“It’s strawberry, our favorite,” he promises as Nick watches from the doorway. “This is going to make you look absolutely gorgeous for the painting!”

Standing back the pair admires their work.

“The jeans are fine, but you can’t wear a T-shirt for your portrait,” says Nick. “I’ll loan you something a little nicer. And you’ll want to be comfortable. What size shoes do you wear?”

“Eleven.”

“Close enough. Take off your sneakers. I’ll loan you some sandals to wear instead. That way you can kick them off more easily and get all comfy while JC works.” Nick goes into the bedroom and returns a few moments later with a pair of leather sandals and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt. The sandals are dark with thick straps while the shirt is cream colored with small blue flowers.

Lance squints at it, reeling back as if it would harm him. “It’s all flowery. Isn’t that a girl’s shirt?”

Brian laughs again and throws his arms around Nick’s neck. “He is so cute. Can we adopt him?”

Nick smiles, kissing Brian’s cheek. “If we adopt him, you have to feed him and clothe him and pay for his college tuition.”

Leaning his head against Nick’s shoulder, Brian sighs. “I guess we can’t quite afford having kids yet.”

Nick squeezes Brian around the waist as he turns his attention back to Lance. “No, it is not a girl’s shirt. It is a stylish man’s shirt. If you were gay, you might have a little more fashion sense. We’re gay, we know what looks best on a man, so trust us, this is a great look for you. Now, take the damn shirt and I’ll give you a ride over there so you don’t get all sweaty again.”

“Oh!” exclaims Brian. “A final touch.” After dashing into the other room, he returns with a bottle of cologne, splashing a bit over Lance. Smelling the scent on the air, he smiles, satisfied.

Minutes later, the trio arrives at the house where Joey, Chris and JC live. Nick and Brian hold hands, while Lance walks behind them, bashfully nervous. Nick raps his knuckles on the door and tightens his grip on Brian’s hand.

“It feels like we’re dropping our little boy off for his first date,” muses Brian.

Nick coughs, clearing his throat. “Only he’s not our little boy and this is not a date.”

“It’s sort of like a date. Like a play date.”

Turning back to Lance, Nick offers, “You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend. He thinks any time two guys get together, it must be a date.”

Brian playfully smacks Nick’s arm as Nick knocks on the door again, louder than before. 

“Who’s there?”

“Nick and Brian and Lance.”

“Come in!”

As they open the door, they find the house is surprisingly dark, with all the lights off, the shades drawn and the curtains closed. Joey is sitting back in a recliner while Chris is half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa slowly munching on a bowl of popcorn. Chris is wearing a Rams Kurt Warner football jersey and long, khaki shorts. Joey is wearing jeans and a white T-shirt depicting cartoon figures of Wonder Woman and Super Girl making out. The caption reads: “Girl Power”. Light flickers and glows from their television and both men are wide-eyed and gaping, transfixed by the images on the screen.

Stepping in further, the newcomers see that the film showing is pure porn. 

Brian rolls his eyes, “So this is how you heteros spend your afternoons?”

“Sure, why not? We are studying the human figure,” explains Joey. “Pass the popcorn.”

Chris’ eyes remain glued to the screen as he flings a handful of popcorn at his roommate. Joey laughs as he picks up the pieces that have landed on him, tossing them into his mouth one at a time.

Hiding behind Nick and Brian, Lance slouches down, blushing in the darkness. 

“Is JC around?” asks Nick.

“Not home yet,” says Chris, as he shifts until he’s sitting upright. He’s finally able to pass the popcorn bowl to Joey, then he stands up and stretches. “He should be home in an hour or so.”

“We brought Lance by. JC wanted to paint him.”

“Well, come on in. Sit,” offers Chris, motioning to the couches and remaining chair.

Nick nods to Lance. “Have a seat. Oh, and that’s Joey, JC’s other roommate.”

Moving toward the couch, Lance grins cheesily and offers his hand to Joey. “I think we’re in the same acting class.”

Joey turns his attention from the screen and eyes the new arrival. “Yeah, yeah, I remember you from class. I’m studying acting techniques.”

Still standing, Brian asks, “And what is Chris doing? Helping you study?”

“I’m studying this fine film for its depiction of human interaction.”

“Chris is studying for a PhD in Psychology,” Nick explains to Lance.

“Psychology and Music,” Chris clarifies.

“Well, we’re just dropping Lance off, so we’ll leave him in your capable hands,” Nick says as he tugs Brian toward the door.

Laughing heartily, Joey responds, “Chris and I don’t swing that way.”

“You should try it sometime, you might like it!”

“Out you two, go home and make your own kind of porn.” Chris closes the door, then heads to the kitchen, returning with three beers. He hands one to Lance. “Sit. JC will be home in a bit.”

“I’m not twenty-one,” Lance says, looking at the brown bottle Chris has given him.

“Since Nick dropped you off, I’m guessing you are not driving. You’re a guy, so I’m guessing you’ve had a beer or two at some point in your life. We don’t card here at the house. Our fridge is your fridge.”

Chris hands a beer to Joey, then returns to the couch. Lance chooses a spot on the shorter couch and turns to the screen.


	8. Fire From A Spark

JC whistles and hums as he walks home, admiring any and all fauna and foliage that crosses his path. His hands are shoved deeply into the pockets of his jeans and he carries a fringed leather bag slung over his shoulder, the strap crossing his chest. The two necklaces his wears as well as his bracelet are visible beneath his pink shirt as his sandals show off his toe-rings. With his long legs, he covers ground quickly, but is friendly to the people he passes. Whether students or neighbors, they each are treated to a affable smile and a quick hello. 

Seeing the curtains and blinds closed as he approaches the house already tells him what his roommates are up to. The unlocked door creaks as he opens it slowly while he moves into the darkness as stealthily as he can. Within seconds, a few pieces of popcorn are flung his way.

“Close door. Too much light.”

“Don’t you two ever get tired of watching porn?” 

“No,” Chris and Joey reply in harmony.

Shifting in his chair, Joey drains his beer and places the empty bottle onto the floor. “Hang out with us a bit, JC. Just pretend the girl sucking the guy’s cock is another guy. With long hair and make-up. And tits.”

“He needs the other kind of porn,” insists Chris.

“What other kind of porn is there?” wonders Joey.

“The mano-y-mano kind. Actually, what he needs is a little gay mano-y-gay mano.”

The pair laughs heartily as JC rolls his eyes. Although he’s already noticed another person in the room, he assumes it’s another of Chris and Joey’s many friends. Without another word, he heads for the staircase.

“Oh, hey, JC. Nick and Brian stopped by earlier and dropped something off for you,” calls Joey as he rises from his chair and heads toward the kitchen for more beer and chips.

Pausing on the staircase, JC turns, his hand still on the banister. “Yeah? What did they drop off?”

“I think it’s a Freshmen.”

“The other fresh meat,” teases Chris as he snickers. “We’ve been teaching him what the big boys do in the afternoon.”

JC squints his eyes and looks more closely at the figure on the couch. “Lance? Is that you?”

“Yes,” comes the deep bass voice, rolling across the room like the evening tide.

“Shoot. I am so sorry. Come on upstairs, please.” Turning back to Chris, JC glares at him. “You guys could have sent him up to my studio rather than force him to watch porn with you.”

“Oh please, Lance. Make yourself at home in JC’s,” pausing for a moment, Chris sits up straight and makes a motion with his fingers indicating quotes, “studio.”

“Shit, JC. That loft has seen more action from you and Carlos than,” begins Joey as he returns from the kitchen, only to be cut off by JC.

“Enough! Enough. Lance, come on. Let’s leave these two to do whatever they’re doing together in the dark.”

JC waits until Lance is following before he continues up the steps. Once upstairs, the room is an open space. Up against one wall is a mattress and boxspring lying on the floor. Two small dressers are nearby, one with a large mirror fastened to the back of it. There’s a pole bolted to the wall which holds hangers with shirts and slacks. Beneath the hanging clothing is a neatly lined row of shoes, boots and sandals. Near the window on that side of the room is a desk, two chairs and an inexpensive pressed-board bookcase filled with books and notebooks. Nearby there’s a guitar on a stand. Most of the room is filled with sketch pads, canvases, paintbrushes, an easel, a myriad of pictures in various stages of completeness, paints, charcoals, pastels, various lights, a table with wine bottle, towel and a bowl of fruit on it, a couple chairs, one large section of wall painted white and a brown leather chaise longue.

“Make yourself comfortable,” JC offers, as he heads toward the desk to drop off his bag and sandals. 

“Just anywhere?”

JC mutters, “Uh-huh,” as he opens an envelope, reading the contents before tossing it onto his desk and moving back across the room. “Wow!” he exclaims when he finally notices Lance in the light. “Look at you! I saw AJ Saturday night and he said I wouldn’t recognize you.” Stepping closer, JC circles around Lance, inspecting him from every angle. “I can’t believe the difference. Night and day, man. Totally cool.”

“Thanks,” stammers Lance. “Brian and Nick took me out shopping, too.”

“It’s great, man. Now you could pass for gay,” teases JC. “Have a seat,” he says, waving to the chaise longue.

“Where did you get this?”

“When you’re in college, and lacking in funds, you learn to be resourceful. Fortunately there are tons of used stores in town. You can get almost anything used, anything from clothing to furniture. A lot of students sell their stuff when they graduate so they don’t have to haul it across the country to wherever they’re headed to next,” JC continues as he turns on a couple nearby lamps. “Those big windows were from friends who work in construction. Those came out of other houses where they put in newer windows. They may not be pretty and they may be drafty, very drafty, but they let in the most awesome light and tons of it. And these are special photographers’ lamps, they help as well. And the white wall, too. I can see the subjects better when I’m working.”

“Like a green screen in the movies?”

“Something like that.”

“What’s the oil for? Do you cook up here?”

JC blushes when he notices the bottle of cooking oil sitting on the floor near the chaise longue. “No cooking. It’s just for. For art stuff,” he recovers quickly as he sets his easel in place. “I use it to make things shiny, like the fruit. In fact,” he begins as he walks to the bowl of fruit. “I think a green apple would be perfect.” 

Walking over to the chaise longue, he places the apple in Lance’s hand. “It will compliment your eyes. Maybe you can relax back,” he suggests, noticing Lance is sitting up straight as a board, his knees pressed tightly together. “Try leaning over to the side a bit.”

Rubbing his chin as he walks around slowly, JC envisions how he wants to set up his picture. Moving closer to Lance, he asks softly, “Do you mind if I touch you? To pose you?” he adds hurriedly. 

“Sure. It’s fine,” agrees Lance.

“Some people don’t like being touched. I always try to ask first.”

Taking a few minutes, JC moves Lance, posing him and occasionally stepping back to view the scene he’s set. “Why don’t you lose the sandals,” he suggests. Moving back in, he leans Lance a little to side, moving his arm so it supports him. For balance, JC lifts Lance’s right leg until his foot his on the seat of the chaise longue, his knee bent. He leaves Lance’s left leg touching the floor. 

“Something’s missing here.”

“The apple?” wonders Lance.

“Besides that.” JC takes off his bracelet, a leather strap, and ties it around Lance’s right wrist. He then unbuttons the cuffs, rolling them back slightly. Placing Lance’s right arm resting on his right knee, JC seems satisfied as he places the apple into Lance’s hand. He’s still close when he begins unbuttoning Lance’s shirt and tugging the shirttail out from Lance’s jeans, allowing it to drape casually. “A little oil might come in handy here. Do you mind?”

Unsure of JC’s intentions, Lance nods and agrees, then watches as JC grabs the bottle of oil, opening it and pouring a bit into his palm. When he returns to Lance, JC places his oiled hand against Lance’s chest and begins massaging the oil into Lance’s skin. “It will help bring out the subtle nuances,” JC promises.

Lance’s eyes close and he fights not to moan as he enjoys the touch of JC’s hand. Suddenly his eyes open. “Your boyfriend. When does he get home?”

“Carlos? Never. We dated for about two years, then this summer he told me he wanted to venture out, see the world and experience life. I’ve been single since June.”

“When you saw AJ Saturday night, was that a date?”

“No,” says JC, laughter twinkling in his eyes. “AJ’s a friend. We like to go dancing and people watching. There’s a couple of gay dance clubs in town. Our favorite is called Flaming Knights. That’s where we were Saturday night. It’s a good place to dance, watch people or to pick up a one night stand if you’re just wanting to get laid. It’s also a good place to check out who’s new and gay in town. If you’re looking for a relationship, you remember the faces from the club, then try to approach them elsewhere. You know, like a park, library, out shopping, a café or coffee shop, places like that.”

“Shear Fantasies?”

“I suppose. Wherever. Let me know when your arm gets tired and we’ll take a break. Or if you’re hungry or thirsty or need the bathroom or whatever. Just let me know, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to start by getting some outline sketching done. Oh, wait. Don’t move. I’m going to snap a couple shots, so we can remember exactly how everything is for next time.”

“Next time?”

“Oh, is that alright? It takes a few days to finish a painting. I’ll do a sketch or two today, then next time we’ll start with painting. It’ll take a week or two.”

“That’s fine.”

“One last touch.” Lance watches as JC moves a pedestal fan nearby, turning it on. He’s thankful actually, because he’s feeling warm. “Imagine you’re on a beach and there’s a breeze blowing through your hair. After I paint you, I’ll add a background. I can see you on a beach with sand and waves crashing behind you. It’ll be great, I promise you.”

“I’ve never been to a beach or seen an ocean,” confesses Lance. 

“Really? Maybe you can go to Florida with us for break sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

It’s still light out three hours later when JC takes his sketches and sits beside Lance. “I think it’s coming along nicely. It’ll be great, I promise. Good enough to show your parents when they come visit you.”

Lance glances at the sketches, admiring JC’s work. “You’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” replies JC modestly as he stands and returns the sketches to their place.

Lance watches him and licks his lips. He’s always been the type to know what he wants to go after and he’s never been afraid of going after what he wants, even though he's inexperienced at picking up other men. Deciding to go for it, he holds the apple out toward JC, tempting him. “Would you like a bite of my apple?”

JC smiles, thinking Lance is being considerate, rather than catching onto the sexual innuendo of the comment. “Eat it if you want. There’s an apple orchard a few miles from here where we pick them fresh.”

“I like them fresh. How about you?” Lance takes a bite of the apple and chews it slowly, his eyes fixed on JC.

Finally catching the insinuation in Lance’s tone. JC attempts to calculate whether Lance is truly gay, straight but wanting to experiment or if he’s just toying with JC. When he reaches the chaise longue, he places his hands next to Lance’s hips and leans in to bite the apple.

Lance takes the next bite, allowing a little apple juice to drip onto his chin. Leaning closer, JC laps at Lance’s chin, then nuzzles lower until he is sucking on Lance’s Adam’s apple. Working his way down, JC licks across one of Lance’s nipples, then sucks on it until Lance moans.

“Are you gay, Lance?” he asks quietly, “Or just curious?”

Using his hand, Lance cups JC’s cheek. His eyes lock his eyes onto JC’s. “Completely gay. But I’ve never done anything, really. I come from a small town. I talked one of my friends into kissing once, telling him we could practice on each other before kissing girls. He didn’t care for it much. He thought it was weird. I enjoyed it. I’ve always wanted more. I’d really like to kiss you.” Moving his thumb slightly, he runs it across JC’s lips. JC kisses Lance’s thumb without a thought and crawls on top of Lance, forcing him to lie back onto the chaise longue.

JC quickly finishes unbuttoning Lance’s shirt and Lance allows the half eaten apple to fall to the floor with a soft thud. JC is on all fours, leaning over and pressing their lips together. He feels the warmth and is glad that the fan is still blowing across them as things begin to heat up. They both feel the sparks when their lips meet. JC’s hand quickly unfastens Lance’s jeans and he begins rubbing the younger man’s cock through his underwear. 

Lance feels that he’s ready for anything as he wraps his arms around JC’s back and pulls him close. Lance’s deep moans vibrate throughout JC’s body, causing the blood to rush to his cock, stiffening it as he begins humping against Lance’s thigh. Instead of slipping his tongue into Lance’s mouth, JC returns his lips to Lance’s neck, licking, then sucking the spot below his left ear, encouraging more salacious moans.

Neither one hears Joey coming up the stairs until he clears his throat. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were, um, working on something else. Sorry.”

Lance scrambles to sit up with JC sprawled across his lap. “We were just,” Lance’s words fade to nothing as he looks into JC’s eyes.

Joey chuckles as he backs down a couple steps. “No need to explain. I’m making lasagna. I just came up to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner. There’s plenty of food if you want to stick around.”

After dinner, JC walks Lance out onto the porch to say good night. Running his hands through his hair, he stares into the sky trying to think of something to say. “Can you come back on Thursday, to pose?”

“Sure,” Lance agrees softly as he reaches for JC, pulling him into a hug.

“Same time. We’ll talk.”

When they pull away, Lance is reluctant to let go and finds himself holding onto one of JC’s hands. “Talk?”

“I think we need to. This,” JC begins motioning around with his free hand, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

Lance squeezes JC’s hands, but averts his eyes. “I wasn't either, but I like you, JC.”

Moved, JC pulls Lance in for another hug. “I like you, too.” 

This time, as JC pulls away, he lets his hand linger at Lance’s waist. “I just think we should talk. Next time.” Before he lets Lance go, JC leans in and gives him a solid kiss on the lips, sliding his tongue into Lance’s mouth as he holds the kiss. He presses their foreheads together and promises softly, “I like you a lot, Lance.”

Nodding, Lance licks his lips, still tasting JC’s kiss. As he pulls away, he’s still reluctant to let go of JC’s hand, so he holds onto it, until only their fingers touch, then only the fingertips. Finally, he waves good night and turns, walking down the street. He breathes in deeply as he wanders. He’s not that familiar with the town yet, but he knows how to get home and also how to get to Brian and Nick’s apartment. He heads to the latter.


	9. A Slip Of A Kiss

Brian answers the door at the apartment, immediately inviting Lance in. “How did things go?”

“It was good. JC said he needs me to pose a few more times. I was going to ask Nick if I could borrow the shirt for a few more days. I’d like to wash it before I return it anyway.”

“Nick’s at work, but that’s fine. We know how JC is, so it’s not like Nick was expecting the shirt back today or anything. Keep it as long as you need it.”

“Thanks. Hey, if you’re not doing anything, can I see that note you were talking about? The one in Jordan’s old text book?”

“Sure! Have a seat at the table and I’ll get the book. Help yourself to what’s in the fridge if you’re thirsty. There’s soda, tea and beer.”

Lance pulls the refrigerator door open and finds plenty of beer and soda, as well as a gallon of tea. He also notices a lot of containers from nearby restaurants. He grabs a beer, deciding that’s what he’ll be drinking most of as a college student. Settling himself at the table, he opens the bottle and takes a long swig, quenching his thirst from the walk.

Brian returns to the room and places his Art History book onto the table, then flips toward the back until he finds the note. “It was right here. I don’t know why and I can’t say for certain that it is Jordan’s, but the writing looks just like where he signed his name in the front. Check it out.”

Taking the book from Brian, Lance scoots it across the table, pulls out the note and reads the lines written across the paper in neat cursive strokes:

_Too many secrets  
Too many lies  
Hiding behind a wall of deceit  
Time to come out, come out  
Why deny?_

Lance studies the note, then flips to the beginning of the book to compare the handwriting. “Did you show this to the police?”

“No. I can’t even say for certain it’s Jordan’s. It’s been a couple years since he died. I don’t know if this book has been sitting on the shelf in the bookstore or if five other people have owned it since then. Who knows?”

“Let’s say this is Jordan’s. What do you think it means?”

“I have no idea. I’ve wondered if it’s a poem or a letter, or maybe just random thoughts he wrote down. I mean, we all know he was gay. He was very openly gay. It seems like he was trying to get someone else to admit they were gay, too. I guess.”

“But who?”

“Who knows? He knew a lot of people. A lot of people knew him. He was very involved in the gay community. The cops just think he may have been targeted for that reason.”

“Can I get your thoughts on some names?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve read everything I could find on his murder and made some notes.” Retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, Lance flips it open and pulls out a note, unfolding it. Laying it flat on the table, he smooths it, then begins by reading the first name on the list. “There’s Howie Dorough. Police questioned him. He was a suspect for a while. They say boyfriend, you say ex.”

“Definitely ex-boyfriend. I can’t imagine Howie doing anything like that anyway. No way.”

“Isn’t that what friends, neighbors and co-workers say about most killers? That they can’t believe the nice person they knew could do anything like what they’re accused of?”

“True, but not Howie. Really. If you knew him, you’d think the same. No way. He’s sweet and sensitive. We even call him Sweet D as a nickname. He wouldn’t harm a fly. He’s so sensitive that if he ever did anything like that, even accidentally, he’d crack. He’d confess. No, doubt in my mind.”

Moving to the next name on the list, Lance reads on. “Peter Brenner, History Professor and Faculty Advisor for the Gay and Lesbian Coalition group.”

“What’s his motive?”

“Got me. But do you think he could have done it?”

“I don’t really know him. He’s openly gay and seems really devoted to the fight for gay rights on campus.”

“Did they ever date?”

“Brenner and Jordan? No. They were both openly gay, so no reason to keep it a secret if they were.”

“What if that’s why there are ‘Too many secrets, Too many lies’? What if there was a secret relationship? The faculty is not allowed to date students, right? If they were dating and were found out, the Professor could have lost his job.”

Brian nods thoughtfully, listening to Lance’s words.

“What if they fought about it and it got heated? Maybe it was an argument that got out of hand? Maybe Jordan was tired of keeping the secret. That would fit with the one on one strangulation death.”

“I remember they said he was killed elsewhere and then dumped in the woods.” Pausing, Brian wipes back a tear. “How could anyone do that to another person? They just killed him and tossed him out like trash.”

“I don’t know. Maybe whoever killed him panicked? Do you think Professor Brenner could be the guy?”

“I don’t know enough about him to say one way or the other.”

“Brenner stays on the list then. What about his assistant, Kevin Richardson?”

“Kevin? No way. No way.”

“Gay?”

“Straight and married.”

“That would fit with a secret relationship.”

“Dude, it’s so not him. He’s my cousin. I know him. There is just no way he’s involved at all. We’re close. He couldn’t hide that from me.”

“So Kevin’s off the list. For now.”

“Way off the list,” Brian says, running his hands through his hair, then leaning his elbows onto the table. He flips through the pages of his Art History book as Lance watches.

“Let’s look at the book then. Art History, the note was in that textbook. Why that one and not a different one?”

Shaking his head, Brian shrugs.

“Next name on the list. Could it be his Art History Professor had secrets and lies to hide? What do you know about Professor Thomas Keenan?”

“I don’t know, really. I’m obviously taking his class this semester.”

“See what you can find out about him. For now, he stays on the list.”

“I never understood why Brenner and Keenan were the only Professors who got a lot of heat over this. They questioned a few Professors and students, but the cops seemed to have it out for those two.”

“Well, he worked closely with Brenner, I’m sure that’s why he’s on the list. And he was apparently seen around Kennan’s house the day he died. I guess they cleared the other Professors.”

“I guess.”

“There’s a student the police questioned several times, Erik Hopkins. What do you know about him?”

“He was another very highly visible member of the coalition. He ran against Jordan for President and Jordan won.”

“Was he upset by that?”

“I’m sure he was disappointed. I didn’t know him that well. He’s graduated now. He’s moved on. I think he lives in Wisconsin or something.”

“So for now he’s still on the list. Can I talk to your cousin sometime? Could you set it up, or at least introduce me to him?”

“I’ll call him and ask. I’m certain it will be okay,” Brian assures him.

“Just tell him it’s a research project. Please?”

The two are so wrapped up in their discussion that neither one hears the door open, or Nick entering the apartment. It’s not until he slams the door shut that they notice him there, glaring back at them. From the angle he has at the front door, Nick can see the other two conferring closely, close enough to be kissing.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks loudly as he stomps across the apartment’s wooden floor.

“What’s what?”

Reaching the table in moments, Nick grabs Lance, jerking him to his feet. “What the fuck are you doing with my boyfriend?” he yells.

Lance shoots a helpless glance at Brian, who remains in his chair, staring at Nick in disbelief. It’s not until Nick pushes Lance back into his chair with such force that Lance and the chair both crash to the floor, that Brian stands up, his hands on the table for support.

“Nick! Stop it. What is wrong with you?” 

“Me? What’s wrong with you?”

“We were just talking. Talking about Jordan. Lance are you okay?” Coming around the table, Brian finds Lance on the floor with his hand pressed against his forehead. Kneeling down, Brian gently pulls Lance’s hand away and checks his face for injuries. “Let me put some ice on that.”

“Funny how Lance’s neck got so many hickeys from just talking,” sneers Nick, his arms folded across his chest.

Pulling out an ice tray from the freezer, Brian twists it to release the cubes, then places them into a plastic bag and wraps that in a small hand towel. “What hickeys?” Returning to Lance, Brian eyes his neck, finally noticing the red marks that Nick had seen. “They’re not from me!”

“They’re from JC,” admits Lance, pressing the ice against the spot where he hit the table.

“Really?” wonders Brian. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s kind of private.”

“You and JC! See that Nick? We plant a little spark and JC’s flame is shining brightly once again.”

“So you are gay,” says Nick, more like an accusation than a question.

“Yeah. I’m gay, too. I just don’t publicize it.”

“Just leave my boyfriend alone,” warns Nick.

Brian wraps his arms around Nick and kisses his cheek, attempting to calm him. “Honey, he likes JC. He just stopped over to make sure you didn’t want the shirt back right away and to pick up his sneakers. While he was here, we talked a bit about Jordan. That’s all. I saved all my kisses for you. I promise.”

Back on his feet, Lance dusts himself off. “Maybe I should go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” offers Brian.

Nick watches the pair go out the door. Brian pushes it almost shut, but leaves it cracked open. Lance leads the way downstairs, still pressing the ice pack against his face.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Brain apologizes.

“You didn’t do it.”

“I love Nick to death, but sometimes he does have a temper on him. He probably had a rough night at work.”

“That’s no excuse to take it out on me!.”

“You're right. He’s a wonderful guy, really.”

“Does he push you or hit you?”

“No. Not me. But he’s been in a couple scraps at bars. And sometimes he and his kid brother throw a few punches around, but they love each other. He’s just a little hot headed sometimes.”

“And jealous.”

“He just doesn’t know you that well. He doesn’t know how to take you yet. And like I said, he's probably had a rough night and came home in a foul mood to start with. Please, don't take it too personally.”

Instead of stopping at the entry door, Brian motions for Lance to keep moving until they’re near the street, under a street lamp.

“He’s watching us, isn’t he?” Brian asks, as he faces Lance, keeping three feet of space between them.

Lance glances up to their balcony and can see Nick’s silhouetted figure leaning against the railing. “Yeah,” he answers softly. “It looks like he’s talking on his cell phone, but he’s definitely watching us.”

“Just give him time, okay? He can be very protective of me. But I’m really happy for you and JC. And don’t worry, JC would never hurt you. He’s a real sweetheart.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see what I can set up with Kevin. Let me call him and set up lunch sometime. I’ll let you know. Do you have a cell phone?”

“No. I didn’t need one at home. Small town and all. You could call Justin though.”

“Sure. I’ll see if Kev’s free on Thursday or Friday.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Brian backs away, nodding, and waves good night. “Be careful walking home.”


	10. Watching Me, Watching You

Thursday afternoon Lance climbs the stairs leading to Nick and Brian’s apartment. His knock on the door is answered by Nick who stares at him in silence for a few moments before stepping forward and embracing him in a hug, patting him on the back.

“I am so sorry about the other night, man, really,” he apologizes. “I hope you’ll forgive me. I feel like such a fucking jerk.”

Lance nods. “It’s okay.”

Nick gently touches the bruise near Lance’s eye. “At least it’s fading. Come on in, please.”

Inside the apartment, Brian hurries over, hugging Lance. “I’m so glad you came over. I’d feel so bad if mean old Nick scared you away.”

“I apologized already,” says Nick. 

Grabbing Lance by the arm, Brian leads him to the couch. Once seated, he pats the cushion beside him, encouraging Lance to sit down. Turning his head slightly, Lance eyes Nick, then chooses to sit in a chair, letting Nick take the seat next to Brian.

“So tell us. You and JC. What’s going on there?” Brian asks excitedly. “We want all the juicy details.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since Tuesday. When I left he said we should talk today.”

“Are you looking for a serious relationship?”

“Maybe. I like him. I just get that feeling around him. You know, the butterflies in my stomach. And when he was posing me for the portrait on Tuesday, when he touched me, it just. I can’t even explain.”

Nick and Brian both smile. “JC’s a great guy,” offers Nick. “I’ve known him for a while.”

“Yeah, he said something about you guys living in Florida. He invited me down for break sometime.”

Brian moves his hand to Nick’s leg, rubbing his thigh. “It’s awesome! I went down for spring break last year and then spent most of the summer there. We spend a lot of time on Nick’s boat.”

“I prefer to call it my yacht,” jokes Nick, puffing his chest out with pride.

“It’s more of a baby yacht. It’s Nick’s baby.”

“How long have you two been dating?” asks Lance.

“We met about this time last year,” Brian answers thoughtfully.

“How did you meet?”

“Friends of friends,” confides Nick. “I knew AJ in Orlando. AJ knew JC and Howie.”

“AJ as in the hair stylist and Howie the waiter?”

“Yeah, AJ the stylist and Howie the waiter. Sure. AJ took a few classes here. Howie still does. JC, he also knew Joey and Justin in Orlando. Joey met Chris up here at college. Brian came here because his cousin Kevin goes to school here. Kevin works as an assistant to Professor Brenner. Kevin also goes to AJ. He took Brian. One day I was there just walking out and I saw Brian waiting with Kevin. Our eyes met. AJ saw it, and the next thing we knew AJ threw a small party and invited both of us, introduced us, then shoved us into a room and let us talk all night.”

“We were both living in the dorm last year,” Brian informs him, holding Nick’s hand. “We couldn’t wait to get an apartment together.”

Slapping his hands on his knees, Nick stands and stretches. “And then Justin met you and introduced you to everyone and there you have it. Now, let’s make you gorgeous for JC.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

As the trio heads to the kitchen, Brian pats Lance’s shoulder. “Just make him happy.”

Less then an hour ticks by on Lance’s watch before Nick and Brian drop him off in front of JC’s house. As he traverses the sidewalk, he waves to them, stumbling because he’s paying more attention to them than the uneven concrete slabs. He shrugs when they laugh at his plight. 

When he knocks on the door, JC answers. Today he’s wearing cologne, tight black pants that look like he painted them on, a wide white leather belt and a tight fitting shiny pink shirt that clings in all the right places to show off his muscular abs and chest. His feet are bare as he stands on the small carpet that covers the hardwood floor at the doorway.

“Come on in,” he offers, swinging the door open wide. “Do you like wine? I have a bottle of Zin out, but I’ll get you something else if you prefer.”

Lance advances slowly, passing JC chest to chest as he enters the house. “Wine sounds good.”

“Have a seat.”

“Where are your roommates?”

“Gone!” JC laughs, his eyes crinkling up until they’re almost closed. “I made them promise to give us a few hours to work without the porn fest going on down here.”

“Are we going to work down here?” Lance asks, noticing the wine glasses are set on the coffee table along with three lit candles of various heights and colors.

“I thought we should talk. Have a glass of wine and talk.”

“Yeah, okay. What do you want to talk about?”

Scooting closer, JC takes his time pouring two glasses of wine, handing one to Lance. He watches as Lance sips the wine, observing his reaction. When he’s ready to talk, JC takes Lance’s free hand into his own and clears his throat softly.

“I told you about me and Carlos. We were pretty serious, then he decided to go traveling.”

“Is he coming back?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. But it’s over between us. Me and Carlos. It’s done. I was so heartbroken that I didn’t think I would be interested in dating this year, but there’s something special about you. I feel so drawn to you.”

Leaning closer, Lance nods. “I feel the same way about you.”

“I have concerns. My friends have concerns. I tend to put a lot into my relationships. When I fall I fall hard. You said you’ve never been in a relationship. What makes you think you’re gay?” Holding his wineglass in one hand, JC tenderly reaches for Lance with the other, gently running his fingertips across Lance’s arm.

“How did you know? I just, I have no interest in girls. All my wet dreams are about guys.”

JC can’t resist asking, “Have you dreamt about me?” 

Blushing, Lance admits, “Yeah.” Turning away, he swallows hard.

“Was it good?” JC pursues, sidling closer, noticing the way Lance’s hand shakes as he holds tightly onto the wineglass.

Lance’s eyes wander around the room, avoiding JC’s. “The best. Lots of kisses.”

“I enjoy kissing and holding, cuddling. I’m curious though, are you just looking to experiment? Are you looking for something serious in a relationship? Are you wanting to hit the clubs and play the field?”

Lance gulps too much wine and coughs to clear his throat. Finally he turns back to face JC. “I want someone to call my own. I’m from a small town and all we want is to find that one person that makes us feel special. You make me feel special.”

“We’ve barely met.”

“That’s true. But there’s something about you. Something that I can feel inside my chest. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I’d like to date you, Lance. But if you tell me it’s serious, if you tell me it’s just you and me and I find out that you’ve cheated on me, it’s over.”

“I wouldn’t do that. If we were dating, I would never, ever cheat on you.”

“All I want is truth and honesty, alright?”

“I agree. Totally.”

“Good!” Rising to his feet, JC grabs his glass and the wine bottle, then leads the way to the staircase. “Let’s get some work done!”

Upstairs JC studies his photos and poses Lance, then sets his lights. This time jazz music plays softly in the background. “I hope you don’t mind. I like listening to jazz when I work.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“What kind of music do you like, Lance?”

“Country mostly.”

JC can’t catch himself before he rolls his eyes and chuckles as he moves the pencil across the paper in arcing strokes. 

Lance watches JC. Sometimes he bites his lips or sticks out the tip of his tongue. Other times his brow furrows with concentration as he strives to capture the essence of Lance on the page.

“Lance, I’d like to draw you in the nude. Would you be okay with that?”

Surprised, Lance sits bolt upright, his feet landing tightly together as his body stiffens. “I thought you were doing a portrait. With clothes. You know, something I could show to my mom.”

JC smiles, delighted with Lance’s modesty. “Honey, they’d only be for you and me. I can draw you better with clothes on, if I’ve seen you without them. I want to learn your body, all the nuances, the muscles, the tone, the shape. Please?”

Moving beside Lance, JC gently presses his hand against Lance’s bare chest and ribs. “Please,” he asks softly, his lips so close to Lance’s ear that Lance can feel his breath. “Please.” His lips close around Lance’s earlobe and he sucks softly for a moment before pressing his tongue against Lance’s warm neck. “Please.”

After a few more minutes of JC’s persuasive tactics, Lance concedes, removing his shirt, then his pants and finally his underwear.

“They only sell tighty whities in your little town don’t they?” JC teases.

“We have to drive into Jackson to buy clothes,” admits Lance.

“Jackson?”

“State Capitol.”

“Are you kidding me?” 

“No.”

“You are from a small town, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. How do you want me to pose?” asks Lance as he moves back to the chaise longue.

“Face me, get comfortable. Uncross your legs!”

Feeling Lance isn’t sure how to position himself, JC takes it on himself to school the younger boy. “Relax. Spread your legs open. Let me get a little something to help.” 

Lance watches as JC retrieves the plastic bottle of oil and pours some into his palm before rubbing it into Lance’s skin.

“Now I’m going to show you what this is really for,” he promises as he rubs harder and faster, pressing his lips against Lance’s skin as he works.

A few minutes later, Lance’s eyelids flutter shut and he begins moaning. 

“Okay,” JC coaches, “lean back with your arm up here. Legs open, this one here,” he says as he moves Lance’s right leg until the foot is settled on the floor. “And this one, here,” he continues, as he bends Lance’s left knee, setting the foot onto the chaise longue, spreading Lance’s legs wide open. Taking Lance’s left hand, he drapes it over the left knee, then stands back surveying the pose for a minute. 

When he steps back to the chaise longue, he gently takes Lance’s right hand and moves it down to his crotch. “Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks gently.

Lance’s eyes open wide. “I, um,” he begins nervously. 

“It’s alright,” soothes JC. “They say that everyone masturbates, and anyone who says they don’t is lying about it.” 

Lance remains silent, eyes fixed on JC as he watches JC pour a little more oil into his hand, then begin to rub it up and down Lance’s cock. “Just lay back and enjoy. I’m just going to do some sketching. Just for us. Only for us”

Lance keeps his eyes focused on JC, as he picks up his sketch pad and begins moving the pencil in fluid lines. Barely aware, his hand reaches for his cock, lightly touching it. JC nods his approval. Slowly Lance begins stroking his cock.

“Awesome,” encourages JC.

When the bass tones Lance moans vibrate through his body, JC feels his own cock straining against his tight pants. Placing the pencil in his mouth, he adjusts, then rubs, his own eyes closing as he adds his harmonious moans to Lance’s. 

Slipping from his stool, JC unbuttons his pants, pulling them off and placing them over a quilt rack he had rescued from someone’s trash the year before. Soon his shirt is off, joining the pants on the rack. With a touch of oil, he begins stroking his own cock, noticing that Lance has finally opened his eyes, watching JC watching him.

“You are so beautiful,” JC croons, his eyes closed. “So beautiful to me.” When he opens his eyes again he notices Lance is still watching him, so he smiles and poses for Lance.

No longer concerned about his embarrassment, Lance strokes his cock, his eyes focused on JC’s crotch. 

Licking his lips, JC admits, “I want to taste you. I want to lick you all over your fucking body. I want to suck your cock and I want you to ride mine. Hard. I want to fuck you all night long, Lance. Make you feel me from the inside.”

Lance comes and JC smiles, bringing himself to orgasm soon afterward. Grabbing for his paper towels, JC quickly cleans up the floor, himself and Lance while Lance lies back exhausted. 

“I bet you’ve never done that before. Never jacked off with someone else in the same room.”

Opening his eyes, Lance yawns and admits, “No, that was a first. A wonderful first.” Rolling over, he’s ready to sleep.

Taking Lance’s hand, JC pulls him to his feet and begins tugging him across the room.

Lance grudgingly follows. “I want to sleep now.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re going to do. I told you I like to cuddle.” 

Across the room, JC lets go of Lance’s hand and flops onto the mattress. When Lance fails to move, JC pats the bed. “Clean sheets, I promise.”

Stepping back, Lance shakes his head nervously. His voice is low, “I’m not ready. I don’t think I’m ready yet. I’ve never. Never done. That.”

JC smiles and scoots against the wall. “We’re just going to nap, sugar. You’re tired, I’m tired. I just want to hold you close. Maybe kiss you a little. We have a couple of hours before dinner, so we might as well rest up. I won’t ever push you into doing anything you’re not ready for. I promise.”

Moving cautiously, Lance drops to the bed as JC lifts the covers invitingly. 

“Lie down. I just want to feel your body heat, your heartbeat, all the things that make you sweet.”

Finally relaxing, Lance smiles. “I forgot you play guitar. I guess you write songs, too?”

“Yeah, baby. I write songs. I will immortalize you in song and picture and engrave you on my heart for all my days and nights.”

“Poetic.”

Rolling over, Lance faces away, so JC spoons up behind him, laying his arm across Lance’s waist and twining their fingers together. With his nose buried in Lance’s hair, JC inhales deeply and exhales slowly, satisfied that he can make this relationship work.


	11. The Red Dog And Other Clues

Saturday morning Brian is a flurry of cleaning activity, dusting, vacuuming and washing the dishes, while Nick sits on the couch reading the paper, feet perched on the coffee table. “You could help,” he pleads.

Nick’s eyes never leave the page he’s reading. “He’s your cousin.”

Brian whizzes a towel at Nick’s head. “It’s your apartment, too!”

Giggling, Nick retorts, “Still your cousin.”

“Could you at least clean the bathroom before they get here? Please?”

Standing up, Nick casually strolls across the room, letting his index finger drift across their table in a mock white glove inspection, then briefly examining the imaginary dust on his fingertip. When he reaches Brian, he hugs him from behind, clasping his hands in front of Brian’s waist and softly rubbing against Brian’s butt as he sways. “If I clean the bathroom, do I get a reward?”

Turning around within Nick’s grasp, Brian drapes his arms around Nick’s neck, kissing the tip of his nose first, then his lips. “Baby, you get rewarded every day of your life.”

Tugging at Brian’s shirttail, Nick slides his hand beneath the shirt, splaying his fingers against warm skin as their lips press together. “You feel so damn good,” he says as he backs Brian toward the bedroom.

Kevin is the first to arrive. Nick answers his knock on the door and they embrace, patting each other’s back heartily.

“How are you doing, Nicky?”

“Good enough. What’s up with you?”

“Working. Always working. Professor Brenner loves to send me on lengthy research projects in preparation for classes and tests.”

“Come on in,” suggests Nick as he closes the door. “Brian’s in the kitchen putting lunch together.”

The pair walk to the kitchen to find Brian cutting Subway sandwiches into two inch sections and piling them neatly onto a serving plate.

Kevin picks one up and shakes his head. “Leave it to my cousin to gay up a nice hoagie. Real men like them big, not these dainty little finger sandwiches.”

Brian kisses Kevin on the cheek as he passes him while carrying two plates to the table. “News flash, Kev. Gay men like them big, too.”

Nick can’t resist flashing a huge grin and grabbing Brian around the waist, forcing him to scramble to balance the food on the plates without dropping anything. “And that’s why Brian is with me.”

Shaking free from Nick’s grasp, Brian recovers and places the platters onto the table. “I thought some of you guys would like a variety. We have different meats and different breads, so you can all try several kinds instead of just one.”

“Besides,” Nick teases, “he doesn’t like it when I offer other guys a taste of a big twelve inch.”

Moving around the other two, Brian makes his way to the refrigerator and pulls out two small vegetable platters he had purchased from the grocery store. Back at the table, he places a plate of vegetables and a plate of sandwiches at each end. Snapping his fingers, he realizes what’s missing.

“JC must be coming over,” notes Kevin.

“What makes you say that?” asks Nick as he grabs a carrot stick and takes a bite, crunching it as he chews.

“Who else would you guys buy vegetable trays for?”

Nodding, Nick admits, “True.”

Returning to the table, Brian sets down two bowls of chips and slaps Nick’s hand as he’s grabbing a celery stick. “Wait for your guests! And you remember your job today, right?”

“Drinks?”

“Exactly! So why is Kevin standing around without one? Hmmm?”

Throwing his hands in the air, Nick asks Kevin, “Anything to drink, guest numero uno?”

“Sure, I’ll take a beer.”

Brian is in the kitchen putting more chips into bowls, mumbling to himself. “Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles, Lays Barbeque, Doritos Nacho Cheese and Fritos. All chips present and accounted for,” he confirms as he takes the last two bowls to the table.

Nick tugs on the refrigerator door and retrieves two beers, handing one to Kevin. “Honey? Do you want a beer or anything?”

“I’ll have some tea with lunch.”

“Okay. Have a seat if you want, Kevin.” A knock at the door draws Nick’s attention. “Be right back,” he promises as he heads across the living room. “Hey JC! Come on in. Hi Lance.” He greets JC with a huge hug and they walk into the apartment arm in arm, leaving Lance to close the door and trail behind them, grasping his briefcase in one hand. “Anyone else coming with you guys?”

“No, just us.”

“Hey, honey,” Brian greets JC, hugging him. “And Lance, sweetie. This is my cousin Kevin.”

Pulling away from Brian’s hug, Lance offers his hand to Kevin. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. I hear you’re researching Jordan’s murder.”

“Yeah. I’d like to help solve the crime if I can.”

“Why don’t we all sit down?” suggests Brian. “Lance, JC, anything to drink?”

JC’s eyes turn to slivers as he smiles. “Well, I know better than to ask for wine here. Tea will be fine.”

“I’ll have a beer,” says Lance, dropping his voice even lower.

Nick returns to the kitchen retrieving two glasses, filling them with tea, then grabbing another beer from the refrigerator.

“Do you sing, Lance?” asks Kevin. “You’ve got an awesome bass voice there.”

“I sang in the church choir at home and also in school.”

Sitting next to Lance, JC wraps an arm around him possessively. “Don’t you guys even think about it. If Lance is going to do any singing, it’s going to be with me.”

Kevin leans back, hands raised, palms out, admitting defeat. “Okay, okay, he’s all yours. So Lance, Brian said you wanted to talk to me. Got questions?” Kevin asks as he helps himself to a couple sandwiches and a handful of chips.

After wiping his hands on a napkin, Lance opens his briefcase and pulls out a notebook. Concentrating on the book, he leafs through the pages, studying the words, then flips to the next blank sheet and grabs a pen before returning his attention to Kevin. “I’ve read through all reports and news articles I could get my hands onto. I’m starting with the list of suspects that the police had.”

“Great. I’m on that list.” Kevin rolls his eyes as he chews on a ham and cheese sandwich. “I’ll save you some time. I didn’t do it.”

“Brian vouched for you.”

“Way to go, Cous!”

“I know you couldn’t do that. Howie either.”

Nodding in agreement, Lance offers amiably, “We scratched Howie off the list, too. What about Peter Brenner? You work closely with him. Could he have been dating Jordan? Could he have killed him?”

Looking down at his plate, Kevin shakes his head and swallows. “No. He’s been in a very committed relationship for years. Ten or twelve years. They own a house together. He knew Jordan and liked him as a student. He was proud of Jordan and thought the world of him. He was totally supportive of Jordan’s work for the coalition. There was never a cross word between them. Peter would advise him, but he let Jordan make his own decisions. There was no animosity between them.”

“What about Brenner’s lover? Could he have been jealous?”

“I don’t think so. He helped with the coalition, too. He was there and Jordan would go to their house and discuss things over dinner fairly often. They thought of him more like a son. They’re both great guys. They were together the night Jordan was killed. I just, I can’t imagine the two of them doing that.”

“Do they have a dog?”

“Two cats.”

“Are you back to this Irish Setter thing?” wondered Brian.

“It’s a major clue. They found long red dog hairs on Jordan’s clothing. They’re consistent with being the hair from an Irish Setter.” Turning back to Kevin, Lance continued, “What about Thomas Keenan?”

“Art Professor. I don’t know much about him.”

“Erik Hopkins?”

“Erik had a vitality about him, a fire in his eyes and in his heart. But I don’t see any motive there.”

“Jordan beat him out for Presidency of the student coalition.”

“He was disappointed, sure, but he knew Jordan was a good choice. Maybe even a better choice. He was cool about that. It was a friendly and clean campaign and a fair election. They had a couple of debates before the election and there was far more laughter between them than raised voices. They were gracious to each other, hugging and shaking hands after debates as well as after the votes were tallied. Erik was happy for Jordan.”

“What about the theory that is was a hate crime?”

“I never agreed with that,” Kevin confesses, clearing his throat thoughtfully. “If it was a hate crime, they would have left him in the street as a warning for other gays.”

“You see, I totally agree with that. Plus, if it was a hate crime, that’s usually by a gang, or at least two or more guys. According to the autopsy, there’s only evidence that he was killed by one person. And like you said, why hide the body?”

“Exactly. So you’re down to Erik and Professor Keenan?”

“They seem to be our prime suspects at this point. I heard Erik graduated last year and moved away. Professor Keenan still teaches here, so he must still live in town. I checked for a listing, but couldn’t find one.”

“He was separated from his wife at the time. When this happened there were a lot of calls to the listed number, which was hers. She had it disconnected. I’m not sure if his listing is private or if he just uses his cell phone. He has to have some number on file with the college.”

“Can you get it?”

“I don’t know about that, but I do happen to know where he lives.”

“Really?”

“Sure. It’s a small town. People talk. College assistants run errands.”

Lance stands up so fast his chair begins tipping backward. “Can we go? Now?” he manages to ask as the chair crashes to the floor amidst laughter. Undeterred, he asks again, “Can we?”

JC tugs on Lance’s arm. “Sit down and finish eating, then we can go.”

Picking up his chair, then his half-eaten roast beef sandwich, Lance glances back to Kevin, “Was this the same place he was living when this happened?”

“Yeah, he’s been there about six years. They were up and down for awhile. He and his wife. I think he moved back in with his wife a couple times, but they couldn’t seem to work things out and he’d move back to the other house after a couple months. His wife filed after he was considered a suspect in Jordan’s murder. I think their divorce is finalized now.”

“What about a stranger?” wonders Nick. “It could have been almost anybody.”

“That’s true,” admits Lance, “but I figured the police spent hours on the case. They have to have some reasoning for their suspects. Erik was seen talking with Jordan on campus that day. So was Professor Brenner. And Kevin. Apparently Jordan or someone that looked like him was seen near Professor Keenan’s home. They said he had his wallet with cash in it, so they ruled out robbery.”

“What if he hit on someone who wasn’t gay?”

Brian dismisses Nick’s question with a huff. “He’d been in town for four years. He knew who was gay. He knows the circle, man.”

“What if it was a bi he was dating who wanted to date girls too? I’m just saying, it could have been someone else.”


	12. No Tests Today

With the five of them piled into Nick’s van, they head across town. This time Kevin sits in the passenger seat, directing the journey. Brain and Lance sit in the middle seat, leaving JC to sprawl across the backseat on his own. Other than Kevin’s instructions to Nick, the van is quiet. The small town’s roads are not in the best condition. The main streets in the center of town are in better condition, well-paved and wide. As they travel to the edge of town, the streets narrow and become filled with potholes. Nick slows as he attempts to avoid them. 

“That’s it,” Kevin finally calls out, pointing to a house that looks similar to the other houses around town. It’s older, clapboard, painted white. The roof is rough with a few loosened shingles and the fence around the property is high and holds ‘ _No Trespassing_ ’ notices every few feet.

“Let’s park around the corner,” suggests Lance, his voice barely audible.

Kevin nods and directs Nick to turn at the next corner a couple houses away from the Professor's. As they park, they hear a dog barking. And older woman looks up from her backyard gardening. She wears a hat, gloves and glasses.

“Hush, Sadie!” she calls.

JC is the first one to run over to the fence, grasping the chain links with his fingers. “What a pretty doggie you are!” he gushes. “You are beautiful! Look at you!”

The older woman first seems alarmed at seeing five young men parking beside her house and focusing on her, but JC’s enthusiasm puts her at ease. Rising slowly to her feet, she tugs off her gloves and presses one hand against the small of her back. “If I only had the body I had when I was your age.”

“She is so beautiful. Can I pet her?” JC begs.

As if on cue, Sadie places her front paws on the top bar of the fence and lays her head against JC’s chest.

“Sure, sweetie. She loves attention.”

Stepping beside JC, Lance pets the dog, too. “She’s an Irish Setter isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.”

“How long have you had her?”

“Since she was a puppy. She’s eight now. Almost nine.”

“Do you know the Professor who lives around the corner?”

“Tom Keenan? Not too well. He’s been in the neighborhood for a few years. He was more friendly at first. Until that college boy was killed and he was being investigated. He’s an old sourpuss now. Barely steps out of his house anymore. He hires students to do his yard work, but he always has. He said he wants to help them because they’re broke and there’s more yard work than he wants to do.”

“I’d like you to look at something, a picture,” Lance says before racing to the van. After poking through his brief case, he returns with a glossy magazine. Once he’s flipped to the page he wants, he shows it to the woman. “Have you ever seen him working for the Professor?”

Shifting her glasses, the woman peers at the picture closely. “That’s Jordan. He’s the young man who was killed. Sure, he knew the Professor. I saw him over there several times. He liked Sadie, too. He used to beg me to let him take her for walks.”

“So you actually knew Jordan?”

“Oh yes. Wonderful boy. He used to park over here, too. He’d parked here one day and fell in love with Sadie. He said he had an Irish Setter when he was a boy and he missed spending time with a dog.”

“And he spent time with Sadie? He took her for walks?”

“Yes. Quite often actually. I lost my husband about a year before that and Jordan was really good to me. He always checked to make sure I was alright and he’d offer to run errands for me, or drive me wherever I needed to go. He was a very caring boy. I really miss him.”

“Do you remember if he walked Sadie the day he was killed?”

“Yeah. He did. He was here earlier in the afternoon. He’d taken me to my doctor’s appointment around four. Then when we got back, we sat on the patio over there and talked and had lemonade. He took Sadie for a walk while I made supper. He had supper with me that night, then he left. The funny thing is, his car was still here really early in the morning, around five. Then it was gone.”

“Did you talk to the police?”

“Oh sure. Honey, I called them and said I saw that car here in the morning and I think that’s when they came over to question Tom, because he knew Jordan at the college. I knew it was Jordan’s car because I was in it that day, but they asked if I could tell them the license plate number. I’d seen the car dozens of time, but I never bothered with his license plate number. Why would I know it? The cops ended up thinking I was some daft old broad that saw a car that may have looked similar to Jordan’s and was confused about him taking me to the doctor's that day. All they had to do was call the office and confirm my appointment.”

“May I ask your name?”

“Daisy.”

“Daisy Masterson?”

“Yes. That’s me,” the woman boasted proudly, sticking out her chest and standing a little straighter, her hands on her hips.

“Yeah. I remember reading about that. They never confirmed it was Jordan’s car.”

“I swear on a stack of Bibles, that was his car. That or when he left someone with an identical car parked in the exact same spot.”

Reaching over the fence, Lance takes Daisy’s hand and shakes it. “Thank you, Ma’am. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Bye, Ma’am. It’s been a pleasure.”

The rest of the group smiles and waves, then follows Lance as he walks across the street to where he can look into Professor Keenan’s backyard. “I want to go in there,” he announces, staring beyond the fence.

The others gather close to him as a barking dog rushes toward them. Lance’s eyes open wide and he looks toward the house while JC kneels down, encouraging the dog’s attention.

“Hey, puppy! Look at you!” Reaching through the slatted fence, JC pets the Bulldog, finding it more friendly than its bark would first indicate. “You’re a good doggie, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”

“JC, you keep the dog distracted. I’m going to go in and look around,” Lance informs the others as he begins analyzing the best way to get over the fence.

Kevin grabs Lance’s arm, restraining him. “That’s trespassing. It’s illegal.”

Shaking Kevin’s hold, Lance retorts, “So is murder.”

“You have no proof, no reasonable cause.”

“I want to know if he’s the killer. I just want to look around and see if I can find anything, that’s all. It’s research.”

Stopping Lance with a hand on his chest, JC stands his ground, one hand on the fence. “Let me go in there first. I’ll have a better handle on the dog that way, in case he starts chasing you or something.”

Lance nods and watches as JC gracefully hoists himself up and over the fence, landing on his feet on the other side. He eyes an inflated ball in the yard and he runs to it, kicking it toward the Bulldog. “Hey, he’s a soccer dog,” he shouts with glee, only to be hushed by the others.

“Keep it down, okay?” pleads Lance. “Keenan might be home and even if he isn’t, we don’t need the neighbors calling the cops.” Leaping toward the fence, Lance struggles a little, but manages to get himself over the top without much trouble. When he drops to the other side, he stumbles, but doesn’t fall. Seeing that JC has the dog’s attention fully occupied, Lance proceeds to poke around the yard, especially below the newer deck, which has a myriad of lawn tools stored beneath it.

A few minutes later, Lance emerges carrying a blue tarp. Nodding to JC, he nearly whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”

At the fence, Lance tosses the tarp over, then begins climbing, struggling a little until JC comes up behind him, assisting him with a boost. Once Lance is over, JC pats the Bulldog one last time before swinging over the fence himself. Back on the sidewalk, Lance gathers the blue tarp, inspecting it briefly before folding it up.

“What’s up with that?” asks Brian.

“Evidence,” confirms Lance, already heading toward the van. “We have to go to the police. Right now!”

The other four stare at each other, then stare at Lance, who is already several strides ahead of them. Nick is the first one to take a step to follow. The others are soon on his heels. Kevin takes the passenger seat again, navigating Nick through the neighborhood streets toward the Police station.

A bell sounds as Lance enters the station. The clerk at the front desk doesn’t even look up from her papers until he reaches the counter. “Can I help you?” she asks, in a bored tone.

“Is Detective Lembeck in?” questions Lance as he grasps the tarp tightly.

The clerk is older and looks at Lance over her reading glasses. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No. We have information for her. About a case of hers.”

“Which case might that be?”

“The Jordan Tyler murder case.”

“I will ring her office,” says the clerk as she’s reaching for the phone. “Hey Peg, I’ve got some boys out here that want to talk to you about the Jordan Tyler case.” When she pauses, she looks at the five of them, studying their faces. “They say they have information. Okay. I’ll tell them.” Hanging up the phone, she points to the sign in sheet. “She said she’d be right out. One of you can sign in.”

Being the closest, Lance takes the pen and scribbles down his name, but gives them JC’s phone number. The Detective comes through the door just as he’s putting the pen down. She’s tall for a woman, mid forties with her auburn hair pulled into a bun. She’s wearing khaki slacks and a burgundy blouse. As she looks the five over, she stands with her legs apart and her arms crossed.

“What sort of information do you boys have?”

“Is there somewhere more private we can go?” asks Kevin. “A meeting room or your office?”

“Sure, follow me.”

They watch as she punches numbers on the lock’s pad, then turns the handle and holds the door open for them. They follow her down to a meeting room in the back of the building. There’s a chalk board in the front, a podium along with five rows, each row containing three tables across and two chairs behind each table.

“Have a seat anywhere,” the Detective offers. “My office isn’t big enough, but this should do. What information do you have?”

“This tarp. It’s from Professor Keenan’s house,” Lance begins. Carefully unfolding it, he displays a rip near one corner and some dark reddened staining. “It’s blood and this tear, I think it may have gotten there because Professor Keenan may have used this tarp to move Jordan’s body through the woods.”

“How did you come into possession of this tarp?”

“It’s from his backyard. We went to look for clues.”

“So you’re confessing to trespassing and theft? Is that why you’re here?”

“No. We want to help solve the crime. We think Professor Keenan may have done it. Jordan was seen in his neighborhood the night he was killed. Can’t you test this tarp? There’s got to be DNA in those stains.”

“Look, boys, I understand you want to help. I admire your enthusiasm. But you cannot break laws looking for clues or anything else. As long as you promise to return that tarp to Professor Keenan’s home, I will let you off with a warning instead of charging you with any crimes. But I will also warn you, if there is any more breaking and entering, trespassing or theft on your part, I am going to have to charge you with it. You can't go around harassing people because you think they may have done something.”

“But the tarp. It could evidence.”

“No, it’s not. Even as a Detective, I can’t go trespassing on anyone’s property without a warrant. On top of that, how can you prove that’s from his house?”

“But it is.”

“If it’s evidence, you have to prove that it’s from his house. And how many people have used it or touched it since the crime?”

“I don’t know.”

“Even if that is from his house and even if that stain is blood, there’s no way to prove anything about it. Even if it has Jordan Tyler’s blood on it, it’s been established that he had done yard work at the Professor’s home. How can you prove he didn’t cut himself while working? There’s barely any blood on it at all. It doesn’t prove murder. I’m sorry, boys,” she says as she begins ushering them toward the exit, “we won’t be running any tests today.”

JC touches Lance’s elbow and leans close to his ear. “What about the dog?”

Lance swiftly turns, facing the detective once again. “I found the Irish Setter. It belongs to a neighbor of Professor Keenan’s. Jordan walked the dog.”

“Again, what evidence is that? He could have walked the dog hours before he was killed. It doesn’t prove anything. He could have walked the dog, waved to the Professor, left the area and then been killed by anyone. Unless you can bring me a witness to the crime or the guilty party’s confession, it’s best if you boys leave the investigation to the professionals. We know what we’re doing and we certainly don’t want you boys jeopardizing your own safety by poking around where you shouldn’t be.”

Nick, Kevin, Brian and JC all drop their heads slightly as they start for the door again. Lance alone holds his head up high and faces the Detective. “I will see what I can do.”

“What’s your next plan?” asks Kevin, once they’re back in the van.

“Either we find some witnesses who didn’t come forward yet, or we trick Professor Keenan into confessing,” suggests Lance. “Brian, you’re taking his class. Maybe you could get close to him, talk to him.”

Checking his side mirror, Nick leans his arms on the steering wheel as he listens to Lance. Before Brian has time to answer, he interjects, “I have a better idea. Who do we know that can find out anything going on in this town?”

JC smiles, nodding his head excitedly. “AJ!”

“Exactly!” Nick dials his cell phone with his thumb, then holds it to his ear. “Come on, AJ, answer your damn phone. Yeah, AJ! Look, I need a favor. I need some information. About Professor Keenan. See if you can ferret out any info on him for me, okay? Anything. Anything about him. Especially about him and Jordan Tyler. Yeah. Thanks! Sure thing.” Turning around, he faces Lance and JC. “He says he’ll see what he can dig up for us, then he’ll give me a call back.”

“Will that work?” asks Lance.

“You do not know AJ very well. He can weasel information out of just about anyone and they won’t even know it. He’ll talk to some customers, then he’ll be at the clubs and see what else he can find out.”

“Maybe he should have been a Detective.”

“Well, there’s still that little problem of his that he can’t keep a secret. That could be a problem for a Police Officer.”

“True,” admits Brian. “But wouldn’t he look super fabulous in a uniform?”


	13. No More Secrets

Three weeks after Nick had made his call to AJ, he rings JC’s house. “AJ finally called. He says he has some information. He wants us to meet him at the club tonight. Bring Lance, okay?”

“We’ll be there at ten. Man, Lance has been antsy as hell waiting for AJ’s call.”

“I’m sure you managed to find a few ways to relax him.”

“One hundred ways, baby!”

“See you tonight.”

Around nine o’clock, JC, Chris and Joey are in their living room, beers in hand, when the knock comes at the door. Knowing who it is, JC springs up immediately, greeting Lance at the door with a hearty hug and a tender kiss to the lips. Pushing away slightly, he rubs the small of Lance’s back and finally notices Justin is there, too, grinning broadly and wearing a baby blue polo shirt, navy slacks and sneakers with navy accents.

“And just where are you headed tonight?” JC asks.

“I’m going with you guys. This is like, we’re like really on a case. This is awesome!”

Chris leaps up instantly. “Hey, if he gets to go, I get to go. I can be his date! I’ll keep all the horny gays from grabbing his ass. Come on Joey, you can help me with wardrobe.”

Shaking his head, JC drops his eyes to the floor for a moment while Joey and Chris race down the hallway, bumping against the walls as they each try to reach Joey’s room first. When he raises his eyes, he looks at Justin. “See what you’ve started? Once you get those two going, there’s no stopping them.”

Strutting into the house, Justin makes his way to the couch. “Sounds like fun.”

Taking Lance’s hand, JC tugs him toward the staircase. “Justin, can you entertain yourself while I work on Lance for a bit?”

Already thumbing through the TV Guide, Justin glances up with an expression of confusion on his face. “You’re going to work on the portrait now? Just how long does it take Joey and Chris to get ready?”

JC giggles on his way up the stairs. “I’m just going to highlight his face with a little make-up, that’s all.” Cupping Lance’s cheek, JC raises his face, inspecting it. “Maybe even a little sparkly glitter for his hair. We’ll be back down in a few minutes.”

Grabbing the remote, Justin flips through the channels. Hearing the loud laughter rolling down the hall from Joey’s room, he attempts to drown it out by increasing the volume. Between his channel surfing, he glances at the staircase and also down the hallway, waiting for someone to come back to the living room.

JC and Lance return first. JC is dressed in his nearly painted-on black jeans and a skin-tight black spandex muscle shirt. White sneakers and the wide white belt round out his outfit. He’s wearing soft make-up, barely noticeable, but enough to enhance his natural beauty. Lance has redressed, now wearing a blue spandex muscle shirt covered in a bubble pattern. The jeans he’s now sporting are extremely tight, a little too long and covered with swirling embroidery. JC has expertly lined Lance’s eyes with black kohl and brushed his lids with a trio of sparkly blue shadows. A faint touch of pink gloss enhances his lips. True to his word, he’s dusted Lance’s hair and arms with a sprinkling of golden glitter.

Jumping to his feet, Justin puts his hands on his hips and smiles glowingly as he announces in a loud Southern drawl, “Well, don’t you look almost pretty enough to turn a straight man gay?”

Blushing, Lance stutters softly, “Thanks. Thanks, Justin,” as he tightens his grip on JC’s hand.

They all turn their attention to the hallway when they hear Joey and Chris making their latest debut. Joey’s hair is spiked up and sprayed flaming red. He’s wearing a brown button-down shirt, unbuttoned far enough to show off his Superman pendant and chest hair. His jeans and sneakers are the same ones he’d been wearing.

The trio stands gawking speechlessly as they turn their attention to take in the sight of Chris swaying his hips, pursing his lips and posing around the room like a fashion model on a catwalk. He’s wearing a lime green wig, a silky champagne bustier covered in lace, a skintight faux tigerskin miniskirt and thigh-high laced black leather boots with spike heels. After he’s strutted, twirled and posed his way around the room, he returns to Joey’s side, taking his arm.

Justin begins rolling with laughter. “You are the worst transvestite ever! The beard horns really make a statement though.”

“Don’t laugh, he’s your date,” teases Joey, escorting Chris to Justin’s side and moving Chris’ hand from his arm to Justin’s. “Well, don’t you two make an adorable couple?”

“He’s missing something,” notes Chris as he stands back. “Come Justin, I think Joey must have just the thing to round out your attire.”

It’s only a minute or two before Chris and Justin are racing back to the front of the house. “Check this out,” pleads Justin as he shows off an oversized pair of sunglasses, the frames are shaped as huge pink stars, the plastic dotted with fake gems. He’s also now sporting a long-tailed tuxedo jacket and a walking stick with a handle encrusted with faux jewels. 

A knock on the door draws their attention and once again, it’s JC who answers it. “Hey, Brian. I guess we’re all ready.”

Peeking past JC, Brian notices Justin, Chris and Joey in their wild outfits. “And the straights are going to a costume party tonight?”

With a smile, JC plants his hands onto Brian’s shoulders. “Oh, no. It’s better than that. They’re coming to the Flaming Knight with us tonight. This is their idea of how gays dress.”

“Right, way to blend in, guys.” Leaning in closer to JC, he whispers, “They’re not really going with us are they?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Dressed like that?”

“Well, think of it this way. It’ll keep the true gays from hitting on them and will give everyone a good laugh for the evening.”

“True.”

Arriving early, the group is fortunate enough to grab one of the tables overlooking the dance floor. Justin and Lance each bear a mark on their hands, so they can’t drink, go upstairs or to the backroom. The heavy beat of the music and the colorful rotating lights call to them. After ordering drinks, JC and Lance, Chris and Justin, along with Brian and Nick, all hit the dance floor, leaving Kevin and Joey babysitting the table.

“First time here?” Joey asks before taking a swig of beer.

“Yeah, and you?”

“Chris and I have come down with JC before. Chris likes to dance and he can get crazy here.”

“And no one really notices.”

“Exactly.”

AJ doesn’t arrive until after midnight and by then the others have had plenty to drink and lots of time on the dance floor. The group is loud and jovial, nearly screaming over the thumping music at times. AJ moves through the crowd, chatting with friends along the way. Once he’s made his way to the others’ table, he taps Lance on the shoulder with a walking stick he’s carrying. Startled, Lance turns swiftly.

“Care to dance with me, sweet thing?” yells AJ, trying to be heard above the din.

Lance stares at him for a moment, taking him in and thinking how he and Justin are dressed similarly. AJ’s wearing a white jacket, over a white shirt and pants, with a shiny black belt and equally shiny black shoes that match his black fingernail polish. He’s also sporting a white hat, sunglasses and a walking stick. AJ’s hat is even cocked at the same angle as Justin’s.

JC hops up, hugging AJ enthusiastically.

“Look at you!” shouts AJ, “You’re like my anti-twin.”

“Positive and negative.”

“Oh JC, sweetie, there are some things you should never say in a gay bar.”

“I was thinking photography,” recovers JC.

“I know. It’s always something arty with you. Hey, do you mind if I borrow your boyfriend for a dance?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

AJ offers his hand to Lance and after seeing JC’s nod of approval, Lance slides off his chair and allows AJ to lead him to the dance floor. They dance close and AJ dances dirty, making Lance blush nervously.

“I have a couple names for you. Phillip Jensen and Max Manning.”

“Who are they?”

“People you should talk to. Too bad you can’t go in the backroom for a private chat. Follow me and I’ll introduce you.”

AJ introduces Lance to Phillip first. They all dance together for a while before JC grabs AJ and whirls him away. Lance dances closely with Phillip, listening and asking questions. His eyes wander through the flashing lights and he watches AJ and JC dancing dirty together, sometimes with AJ’s hand grabbing at JC’s ass, balancing him as he bends back, nearly touching the floor.

Brian and Nick are back on the dance floor, too. Lance watches as they dance sweetly together, Brian’s arms around Nick’s neck and Nick’s arms around Brian’s waist. Their bodies make full contact and their dance is slower than AJ and JC’s, but just as dirty. Their lips meet together, the light catching a flash of tongue, a flick of Nick’s wrist as he catches Brian’s knee, lifting it higher and higher until Brian is humping against Nick’s hip at a feverish pace. From his expression, Lance sees he is close to orgasm.

Across the dance floor, Chris is a hit. He’s been telling everyone his name is ‘Nada’ and he’s the sexiest thing in the bar. He flirts unashamedly with all the men, including Justin, Joey and Kevin. Lance smiles and shakes his head, seeing Chris dancing tightly sandwiched between two taller, more muscular guys wearing shirts that cling almost as tightly as the ones he and JC and are wearing.

After a lengthy conversation with Phillip, Lance thanks him and says good-bye, returning to the table to catch his breath and down his drink. He finds Kevin and Howie there, and searches the dance floor until he spots Joey’s red flames of hair, finding him now dancing with JC. 

After a run to the bathroom, AJ makes his way back to the table and sits beside Lance, his arm encircling Lance’s shoulders. “So, learn anything interesting?”

“Yeah. Where did you find him? How did you know?”

“I put the word out. I ask the right questions of the right people and all the information comes roaring back to me like a tidal wave.”

“I appreciate this more than you can ever know.”

“Just keep making my boy JC happy and we’ll call it even. Ready to meet contestant number two?”

“Sure.”

Setting down his empty glass, Lance takes AJ’s waiting hand, this time they head to the bar. Sitting at the very last seat is a younger man. Like Justin and Lance, his hand is stamped as a minor. His dark bangs nearly fall into his face, framing skin which is nearly as white as Lance’s.

“Max, this is Lance. Lance, Max. Why don’t you two sweet young things hit the dance floor?”

Lance studies Max’s dark eyes as they dart around wildly. There’s something about him that reminds Lance of an feral animal, cornered and frightened. “It’ll be alright,” Lance soothes, holding out his hand. “I dance like crap, too, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Not that,” says the boy too quietly for the loudness of the club. He finishes his soda, takes a deep breath and glances at AJ before taking Lance’s hand.

AJ nods, then follows them back to the dance floor.

Once he returns to the table, Lance takes a seat next to Howie and engages him and Kevin in a lengthy discussion as they watch the others dance. 

It's two-thirty-two when Lance checks his watch for the fiftieth time of the evening. He’s anxious to get to somewhere where there is quiet, paper and pens so he can write down what he’s learned and fit the pieces into the puzzle that seems to be coming closer to a resolution. Words spin around his mind, dancing in time to the music.

Tugging at JC’s arm, he puts his mouth against his ear. “Let’s go home.”

“Home?” JC asks, obviously intoxicated.

“Yes, home. Please?”

“Only if you promise to tuck me into bed.”

“Alright.”

“And kiss me good night.”

“Done.”

“And promise, promise to let me sleep late.”

Capturing JC’s lips with his own, he kisses him deeply, luring him from his seat. “Time to go guys,” he shouts at the others.

Brian and Nick are leaning against each other sleepily, while Justin and Chris are still out on the dance floor. 

Lance turns his eyes toward Kevin, Howie and Joey. “Please help me get them out of here. It’s really time to go.”

Joey downs his beer and heads toward the dance floor, patting Lance’s shoulder on the way. “I’ll get Chris and Justin to the van. We’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll get these two,” promises Kevin and he embraces the lump of Nick and Brian together. “Wake up boys, time to go home.”

“Can you get the keys from Nick, please? He can’t drive like that. He’s way too drunk.”

Reaching into Nick’s pocket causes the him to squirm, giggle and slap at Kevin’s hand. With the keys retrieved, Kevin slides them across the table to Lance.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t want him driving any more than you do.”

“Meet you at the van.”

Turning his attention back to the remainder of the group, Lance hugs AJ and Howie good-bye, then grabs Max’s wrist. JC has his arms wrapped around Lance’s neck from behind and willingly follows wherever his boyfriend is leading him.

It’s dark outside and barely drizzling. The parking lot lights are few and far between. Lance curses more than once at the number of bottles, cans and potholes he stumbles over. When they pass a section hit by light, they see handfuls of used condoms littering the broken pavement. Although the club is nicely decorated inside, the neighborhood is little more than rundown buildings, broken-down cars and abandoned trash.

“Uh-oh. Where are my keys?” wonders Nick as he searches his pockets.

Lance unlocks the van and counts heads as they load up. “Kevin, can you put Nick and Brian in the back, all the way back, please?”

“Sure thing. In the back, boys.”

“It’s my van, I’m driving,” insists Nick, taking a step toward the front of the van.

Kevin holds him back firmly. “Not tonight, Nicky. You’re too drunk. Let Lance drive, okay?”

Nick looks more ready to fight about it than concede, but Brian lulls him, pulling him into the backseat and cuddling with him. Joey takes a seat next to Brian, ready to grab Nick if he lunges toward the front.

“Kevin, do you want to ride with us?” offers Lance as he puts JC into the middle seat with Justin and Chris.

“No. I’ll be fine. I have to get home to Kristin.”

Lance offers his hand, then pulls Kevin into a hug. “Thanks for your help, man.”

“Any time. Good luck with the drunk and unruly. And please, don’t let Nick drive. Drop them off. Or if you want, I will drop them off.”

“I’ll take everyone back to JC, Chris and Joey’s. There’s plenty of room and Joey always makes the best breakfasts. I’ll get everyone home safely, I promise.”

“I’m not worried. At least I know you weren’t drinking.”

With Max settled into the passenger seat, Lance starts the engine, then notices Max pointing to a black SUV parked in a dark corner of the lot.

“You think that’s him?”

“I know it is.”

Gunning the engine, Lance stares at the SUV momentarily before shifting the van into drive. After pulling out of one entrance, he pulls back into another, hitting the brakes and stopping the van directly in front of the SUV. Even through the darkness he can see the driver. He stares for a few moments, making eye contact, his hands grasping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. Then he finally pulls away, whispering, “Too many secrets, too many lies.”

Back at the house, Lance carefully parks the van and turns off the ignition. Exhausted, he rubs his hands across his face, then massages his temples, eyes closed. Hearing the door slide open jolts him back to the present. Turning, he can see that Max is awake, Joey’s the one who opened the door and the others are all sleeping soundly.

“I’ll take Frick and Frack if you want to get the others,” offers Joey. “I’ll put these two in my bed and I’ll take the couch. Justin can take the other couch.”

“Sounds like a plan,” agrees Lance, smacking his hands onto his knees as he attempts to restore some energy to his body. “You can go on in, Max. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Do you need any help with them?”

“No. Thanks, but you go ahead.”

Lance wakes Justin up first, then Chris, leaving JC for last, so he can awaken him with a kiss. “I always wanted to feel like Prince Charming,” he says when JC’s eyes blink open. “Come on, time for you all to go to bed.”

“Mmmm, I like bed,” murmurs JC as he curls up on the car seat.

“Not here. We have to go into the house. Come on.”

JC grudgingly follows as Lance tugs him to his feet. Once again he wraps his arms around Lance’s neck from the back, using Lance’s shoulder as a pillow. “JC? Please stand up. Are you asleep?”

The door soon swings open and Joey hustles out, lifting JC into his arms. “I’ll take him. Once JC gets sleepy he turns into a rag doll. He’s hard to wake up in the middle of the night.”

“Thanks, Joey.” Grabbing Joey’s arm, Lance stops him and whispers, “We can’t let Max leave. Since you’re sleeping on the couch, if you hear him come downstairs, don’t let him leave for any reason.”

“What’s so special about this guy Max?”

“He knows what happened to Jordan. He knows who did it, too.”


	14. The Proof Isn’t Always In The Pudding

As the sun rises, Lance stretches and walks to the window. Looking outside, he surveys the land. There’s a fog that huddles around the low lying areas, blanketing everything in a misty grey. A couple birds chirp as they scout the ground for fresh worms, but mostly, it’s quiet. Lance listens and hears screen doors open and close as neighbors rise to water their plants or pick up their Sunday paper. He’s worked all night, putting things together while the others slept. 

Keeping his footsteps soft, he crosses to the other side of the attic room and finds Max still asleep on the mattress. A motherly instinct tugs on his heart, urging him to sit beside Max and brush the hair from his forehead, comfort him, but he shakes off the feeling and returns to his notebooks and scribbled theories.

At nine o’clock Monday morning, Lance is the first one in line at the County Clerk’s office when they unlock the door. Checking his notes, he pulls out a few microfilms that are dated the year that’s written on his paper. It takes him over three hours to find the documents he’s looking for. Once he’s located them, he reads them twice, shaking his head in disbelief at the words he sees. Scribbling down the document numbers, he rewinds and returns the microfilms and requests a paper copy of the documents he has found.

After lunch, he finishes his report at the college library, where he prints out two copies as well as a second copy of the documents he picked up at the County Clerk’s office. He reads over his paper. It’s still rough, but it will do for now. When he returns to the house, he’s pleased to see Phillip has shown up as promised.

It’s almost three when he and his group enter the Police Department again. He smiles at the clerk and doesn’t wait for her to ask what he wants. “I’m here to see Detective Lembeck. Please.”

Smoothing back her hair, the clerk sees the urgency burning in Lance’s eyes. “What case is this about?”

“Jordan Tyler.”

The clerk taps her pencil against the desk as she makes the call. “Hey Peg. Remember those boys that were here last week about the Jordan Tyler case? They’re back to see you again. Alright. I’ll have Harvey bring them back.” After she hangs up, she looks across the desks at a uniformed officer typing with only his index fingers. “Hey, Harvey. Peg wants you to take these boys down to the conference room. She’ll meet you there.”

The officer nods and stands, running his hand through his thinning grey hair. “Right this way.” 

Detective Lembeck is waiting in the conference room, her butt resting against a table. Her eyes catch Lance’s. “What did you bring me this time? More blue tarps and neighborhood dogs?”

“No, Ma’am.” Motioning to Phillip and Max, Lance leads them forward. “I’ve brought you witnesses,” he declares proudly. His hand shakes slightly as he passes a copy of his report to her. “I’m sorry, it’s still a little rough, but this is what I’m working on for the Scholarship contest. At the back there’s a copy of the Keenans’ separation and divorce papers. In the papers, Mrs. Keenan says that the separation was at her request. After she’d found Professor Keenan in bed with a student. A male student. After the murder allegations, she’d had enough and she proceeded with filing the divorce papers.”

“And your witnesses?”

“This is Phillip Jensen. He says he was dating Professor Keenan at the time of the murder. He was with him that night, but went home early to finish a report he was working on.”

“And that has what to do with the case?”

“Everything! This is Max Manning. He took a summer course from Keenan this summer and Keenan offered to tutor him in exchange for yard work. Keenan started a physical relationship that Max really didn’t want, but went along with to pass the course. He thought if he didn’t, Keenan would fail him. When the course was over a couple months ago, Max ended things, but that didn’t go over well. Keenan grabbed him off the parking lot of a dance club and said he just wanted to talk. He confessed the whole thing to Max and threatened to do the same to him.”

“I was so scared. I took off. I opened the door of his SUV and jumped out. When he called me, I told him I knew he was drunk and joking, just because he wanted me back. I told him I understood. But I’m still scared of him. I never go out alone anymore.”

“Why didn’t you come forward when this happened?”

“I was ashamed. I didn’t think anyone would believe me. I thought it was just my word against his.”

Lance excitedly continues the story. “Apparently what happened was that Keenan was dating more than one student at a time. He was seeing Jordan and also Phillip and neither knew about the other one. Jordan was very open and wanted Keenan to declare himself gay as well. Jordan would have graduated that year and then it wouldn’t matter that they were dating, except Keenan still wanted to keep his marriage together. And date other young men. So he told Jordan no. While visiting Keenan’s home a few months earlier, Jordan made friends with a neighbor, Daisy Masterson.”

Listening with her full attention, Detective Lembeck noted, “The neighbor with the Irish Setter.”

“Exactly. He befriended her and comforted her after the death of her husband. He ran errands for her and treated her like she was his own mother. And they bonded over the dog, Sadie. He took her on walks constantly. The day he died, he had driven Mrs. Masterson to an afternoon doctor’s appointment, then stayed for dinner. Apparently he saw Phillip leaving Keenan’s house and thought their actions were a little more than just friendly. So he confronted Keenan. Jordan always wanted a devoted relationship and he was angered that Keenan was cheating on him. Things got heated. They argued, then fought in Keenan’s living room, tearing the place up, throwing things at each other and striking out at each other. At some point Keenan choked Jordan, strangled him until he stopped breathing.” 

“He didn’t mean to do it,” Max added quietly. “They were fighting and struggling. Things got out of hand and Jordan suddenly stopped breathing. Tom, Professor Keenan, panicked. He said he tried to resuscitate Jordan, but it was too late. He had the body at his house until the weekend, then he wrapped it up and buried him in the woods.”

“And you’re willing to swear out an affidavit and testify in court?”

“Ma’am, he’ll call the Professor and talk to him about it. You can tap the call and get a taped confession.”

“Just keep me safe,” begged Max.

Facing Lance, Detective Lembeck unfolded her arms and stood up offering her hand to Lance. “What’s your name again?”

“Lance Bass.”

“Good work, Lance. This is the sort of thing I can use.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I worked hard on this. I mean, I know you worked hard on the case, too.”

“You seem to have caught a hold of a thread we missed and kept on tugging until it all unraveled. Congratulations, son. I think you’re going to have a surefire winner with your essay. Good luck to you. And thanks for giving me something to work with.” 

Picking up Lance’s article, the Detective begins thumbing through it as Harvey ushers the other boys away, leaving Phillip and Max with the Detective.


	15. Sailing In April

A nearly cloudless sky hangs overhead as the group parties on Nick’s boat for spring break. Together, they rented rooms at a nearby hotel, just to ensure that feeling of being on spring break from college. Several birds swoop into the water, diving for fish as the roar of boat’s motor churns with the sounds of crashing wakes.

Joey and Lance take their turns on the Jet Skis, while Chris, Nick, Nick’s brother Aaron, Brian and Justin swim and splash around in the water near their anchored boat. Britney is tanning on a lounge deck alongside Kelly and Kristin. The trio suns and gossips about their favorite Hollywood stars. JC and Kevin relax from their earlier swim, while AJ and Howie play cards nearby. JC putters around the galley below while Kevin is ensconced in reading a copy of Lance’s final essay entry. Before long, JC emerges from below with a plate of fruit pieces and a pitcher of iced tea.

“Hey, anyone up here thirsty?”

“You bet, honey,” answers Britney, with the other two ladies quickly agreeing.

“We’re cool,” says AJ, eyeing the cooler on deck as his hand grips a beer bottle, slick with condensation. He tips it back, drinking smoothly as he waits for Howie to make the next play.

“Kevin?”

“Yeah, thanks. Man, this is awesome work. I know Lance is going to win. He’s really gone above and beyond researching his topic. Shit, he solved the whole case. He’s a genius!”

Smiling proudly, JC agrees, “He is amazing. With the reward he’s going to get, that will help. Whenever he gets it.”

“Did they say when that would be?”

“Here’s the funny part. After the conviction. After.”

“That could take years.”

“Tell me about it. And he’s wanting to share it with Max and Phillip. Fortunately next year he can officially live with me and not have to pay to stay in the dorm. He really needs the scholarship funds to come through though.”

“He’ll get something. I’ve read a lot of college papers and this one is first rate. I can’t see them not giving it to him.”

Lance and Joey finally bring the Jet Skis back to the boat. Once they’re stopped and the motors are turned off, Joey grins at Lance as he stands to dismount the craft, then pushes him squarely in the chest, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the water, where he’s soon pounced upon by Chris and Justin. The pair begin an all out splashing war with each other after positioning Lance between them.

JC comes to his rescue, standing with his hands on the boat’s railing, looking down over the others. “Let him be, you two. Come on up, Lance. I’ll dry you off.”

Laughing hysterically, Chris quips, “I thought your main passion in life was to get him wet.”

“You should get out of the water, too, you shithead, before you burn any more.”

“But it’s my turn to ride the Jet Ski!”

“Lunch first and Jet Ski later. If you behave yourself.”

Chris slaps his hand to his forehead in mock defeat. “I’ll never get a turn.”

Standing near the ladder, JC readily hands out fresh dry towels to the swimmers. When Lance climbs up, JC greets him with a towel opened wide until Lance hits the deck, then JC wraps him in the towel and his arms. Embracing Lance firmly, JC kisses him and decides the rest of the swimmers can get their own towels. The last two out are Aaron and Nick, engaging in a splashing war of their own.

Kelly is the first one up, helping JC out in the galley. Kristin soon joins them and the trio laugh as they constantly bump into each other in the close confines of the rocking boat.

Nick shoves Aaron, then races to grab a seat they were both eyeing. “Yo, AJ, toss me a cold one.”

Cards in one hand, AJ manages to flip open the cooler with the other and gently tosses a beer to Nick.

“Hey, me, too,” begs Chris.

“Did I ever tell you that Aaron is part of a set of twins?” Nick asks as he settles into the chair.

Chris easily twists the cap off of his bottle, flinging it back at AJ, cheering when it hits him squarely on his biceps. “No shit? I always wondered if the world could handle me with a twin.”

“Yeah, set of twins. They’re fraternal, one boy and one girl.” Turning his head sharply, he faces Aaron, who has a handful of chips and a can of soda. “Which one are you again?”

“Ha ha. That’s so funny, big bro.”

“I have younger siblings myself,” offers Chris. “Four girls.”

“I have three sisters and Aaron, so it’s like having four girls in the family.” Raising his free arm, Nick protects himself from the life preserver Aaron flings his way. “Don’t make me come over there and beat your ass.”

“Why don’t you ride Brian’s instead?”

“I’m the Captain of this vessel, don’t make me toss you to the sharks.”

Brian makes a point of sitting between the brothers, taking Nick’s free hand into his own and blocking Nick’s view of Aaron. He doesn’t need to say anything. Nick knows he needs to lay off Aaron and pay more attention to his guests. Pulling Brian close, he leaves a kiss on Brian’s cheek, then lifts their clasped hands, kissing the back of Brian’s.

Kevin hands Lance’s essay back to him. “It’s awesome, man.”

“I have all of you to thank. I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help.”

“I know this is going to win that scholarship for you,” says Kevin, patting Lance’s shoulder firmly. 

“I sure hope so.”

“Your passion, your drive, your intelligence, your fortitude, it all comes through, man. It’s a brilliant price of work.”

Lance smiles bashfully at the compliments that flutter around him. “Thank you.”

“The college would be nuts not to give you first place. This work shows that you’ll be able to accomplish anything you set your mind to.”

Turning his eyes toward JC, Lance grins easily and sips his beer. “I do have one thing I was really hoping to accomplish tonight.”

~End~  
12/11/07  
© 2007 by Jacie


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